The Science of Lies
by Artemis Day
Summary: When the God of Lies and the Woman of Science meet, it can only be loud and chaotic, but maybe there can be more beneath the surface. Maybe, against all odds, there can be love. A collection of Lokane oneshots and drabbles. (Please see the Author's note in chapter 9).
1. The Bad Guy

**A/N: This was a fill for a prompt on norsekink. The prompt being to write about Jane being unable to hate Loki even after everything he's done, for all the same reasons we can't hate him. In short, Jane is a reluctant Loki fangirl.**

**This was written prior to the release of The Dark World, and is therefore an AU of it.**

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><p>What is it about bad boys?<p>

Jane doesn't know. She's never known. Once, she was a teenager wondering when all her friends collectively lost their minds and decided Severus Snape was just misunderstood and 'sad'. Before that, she was a seven year old girl grossed out by everyone's crush on Judge Frollo. She would've been perfectly happy continuing her life thusly, finding nice, respectable men to date, be they successful doctors or figures of legend. Add one more to the list of reasons why she should utterly despise Loki Odinson/Laufeyson/whatever and wish him a painful death.

The keyword is _should_. The problem is that she doesn't.

Which brings her back to the original question: what is it about bad boys?

Well, the more accurate picture of a bad boy is something to the effect of a brooding, leather jacket wearing, motorcycle riding, Jimmy Dean type. Loki... well, he certainly broods a lot.

The problem is that he's traded leather jackets and motorcycles for genocide and world domination. Jane can think of one very good example of someone who should remind her of him. If she could only make the comparison without wanting to throw up.

It isn't right. She shouldn't like him. She shouldn't even pity him. She should've stayed as angry as the day they met. She should've punched him a few more times, blown off some steam. One more for Erik. Another one for the people he killed before New York. Another for the destruction of her hometown that they're still trying to recover from.

Then, every time he recoiled from the blow like it was nothing more to him than being tickled by a feather, he could grin at her with those condescending eyes and tell her he likes her. Because her pain and the pain of millions mean nothing to him. She has to remember that, and so she punches him over and over again in her mind until it and her hand are sore.

They spend days traveling this realm. Svartalfheim, Thor calls it. She mostly stays by him, letting him tell her stories of his past battles, his deep timbre soothes her and lulls her to sleep at night. She loves to hear him talk; she loves everything about him. She doesn't know yet if she loves _him_, it's too soon to tell. She knows she loves who he is and what he does, in the way she hates who Loki is and what he's done. That's what makes it so hard, because as she doesn't yet love Thor, she doesn't hate Loki. The only person she hates is herself for even _having_ this conflict.

But it's getting worse everyday. Loki sits up late at night because he can't sleep, and instead of ignoring him, she wants to ask why he did it. He finds them food for dinner and insists on preparing it himself (Thor isn't careful enough with a cleaver, he says), and instead of being suspicious of what he might do to that meat before it's put on their plates, she wishes she could go over and help him. He fights at Thor's side, always one step away from betraying him and running if the opportunity presents itself, and instead of hoping a stray elf will find just the right chink in his armor to strike, she is impressed by his grace and dexterity. Olympic gymnasts couldn't move as swiftly as he does.

She wants all of it to go away. She wants to fall in love with Thor with nothing to stand in their way. She wants to hate him and mean it, and let him know that she means it. She can't even talk to him because if she does, he will see through her. He's called the God of lies for a reason. He can smell them on you.

Maybe that's why he hasn't exposed her yet. She meant it the day she punched him. She hated him then, or she almost did. If she tries it again, or if she talks to him now, it won't be like the first time. That was a reflex, an instinct. This would be rehearsed, forced. He'll know.

It comes to her when the battle is over and Malekith is destroyed. She's been bottling it up for too long, but at least now she knows what to say.

She waits for the moment that he is dragged back to his cell in shackles. He looks her way and she meets him without fear.

"I hate the things you've done."

There is a silence that feels longer than it is.

Then he smiles, and her heart plummets.

"Good save," he says.

He _knows_.


	2. Empathy

**A/N: This was written for 'Seven Days of Magic and Science,' a Lokane Week event held at the tumblr fanfic archive, magic-n-science. The prompt was 'Letting Go.'**

**Again, this is an AU of The Dark World.**

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><p>She's out on the balcony with Thor. The majesty of Asgard is set before her unworthy eyes, proud and poised as the most powerful realm of all the nine. It takes her breath away. She can manage nothing beyond the smallest exclamation, wrapped up in one of Frigga's silken cloaks that swallows her up. Thor comes up from behind to hold her, the tiny mortal like a doll in his arms. Loki wouldn't watch them, but sitting in a cell for a year hasn't provided much distraction on its own. He's read all his books and finished tonight's dinner, and Jane Foster's arrival is the most interesting thing to happen in Asgard since Thor's failure of a coronation, and he does know how pitiful that is, thank you.<p>

He sees her like this many times after their victory over the Dark Elves. She stays in Asgard for Thor, for as long as it takes for Odin to come around and give them his blessing. Thor is confident that day is upon them, Jane Foster is not so sure. Loki doesn't have to ask to know this, and he doesn't. She makes it clear she wants him halfway around the world at all times. Since that's not an option, she settles for opposite ends of the palace. Invisible lines are drawn. Her side is the west end with the observatory and Thor's chambers. His is the east with the library. If she wants to venture to his side, she doesn't. Now that he is free of that cell, Loki spends all his time there, and however large the palace library is, he knows every inch of it. He would find her in an instant if she was here.

Then one day, she is. He finds her in the astronomy section, bewilderedly running her finger through titles from her own home world like she thought his would be ignorant of them. She never sees him, but she feels his presence. The fine hairs on her neck stand on end and she leaves in a hurry, books a jumble in her arms. Loki is almost sad to see her go.

Time passes slowly on Asgard, to the point that counting the days is almost meaningless. It is not so for Jane Foster, and she's feeling it a little more each day. Months have gone by since Thor returned with her, just a few shy of a year. All that time attending banquets and debating with scholars and garnering support among the nobility and common folk, and still it's a feat for Odin to address her by name. Loki would rather not notice how much his former father's aloofness chips away at her. What confidence she had ebbs away slowly, under a crippling isolation forced upon her. Odin is the gatekeeper who holds the key to Valhalla just out of Jane Foster's reach and laughs as she jumps with all her might to reach it, and always falls short. Loki sees it, and it would really be nice if he didn't.

It's not so easy to avoid it, any more than it is to avoid her. She's becoming bolder now, going into the library without fear and spending hours buried in books and parchment, just like he did when he was a boy. She no longer cares about him watching her. He does it openly one day, sits at the other end of her table, and she never bats an eyelash. If it truly was bravery that spurred her on, and not certainty that she was going to be shipped back to Midgard and a need to consume as much knowledge as possible before that happened, even that would have been enough.

But now his eyes are open. He sees how disdainfully those who don't accept her look upon her. Sometimes, one hateful stare can undo a thousand loving ones. He sees Thor try to make it right; he tells her someday they will see, but his words are no longer enough (have they even been?). More than anything, he sees the wear in Jane's eyes, the need for an end to it all. Whatever she once felt for Thor is dead and buried in a sea of empty promises. The only love that keeps her here now is a love for science and learning, and if Odin was so unwilling to keep her for Thor, she hasn't a prayer now.

And Loki should not care about any of this. He should watch her descent, and he should laugh and sneer at her. After a time, he should tire of her, and he should let her go back to that hovel of a world where she belongs, to be forgotten, to grow old and die in a blink of his eye. That is simply how it should be.

Tomorrow, Odin will inform Jane that it is time for her to go- he told Frigga as much while Loki's double listened outside the door. Tonight, Loki thinks about all the wonders he'll show her when he uses the momentum to make his daring escape and take her as his hostage. Meanwhile, Jane is draped over him with the sheets bunched up at her back, snoring softly.

He never has done the things he should.


	3. Becoming

**A/N: This is a companion piece to yesterday's post, Empathy. The prompt for this one was 'Slow Kisses.'**

**This story also contains mild sexual content.**

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><p>She never wanted a kingdom.<p>

To be a Queen… she didn't need Asgard to know what kind of burden a fairytale ending carried. To have all those people relying on your for justice and safety. It would be one thing if Asgard was a constitutional monarchy, and Odin merely a figurehead with an entire parliament to do the work for him. Jane stands behind Thor as he addresses the people, their King-to-be. They don't know who she is, and she is no one anyway. Their eyes and their voices weigh her down and crush her flat, with Odin's condescending eye to strike the final blow.

Thor doesn't see her pain. His proper coronation is just around the corner, and he is going to do it right this time. The last night they spent together, he left at dawn and she woke up to an apologetic note and a bouquet of the most fragrant flowers Asgard has to offer. The scent gave her a headache.

On bad days, she blames him. The false love that kept his visage golden in her heart has withered away like one of those flowers. In her mind she's constantly giving him a piece of her mind. She blames him for leading her on, accuses him of losing interest in her and having the gall not to tell her, accuses Odin of keeping him on diplomatic missions just so that he's away from her. That, at least, she can never say is just her wild imagination, not with her would be father-in-law dragging him off at all hours without even a glance in her direction, let alone an apology.

She throws herself into study: her final, truest love. The world before her is one no mortal has ever seen before or will ever see again. With the time she had left, she will learn as many of it's secrets as possible. All that hinders her efforts is Loki. He guards the library like a snarling wildcat. When she endeavors to enter his domain, she can feel him everywhere. Whichever way she turns, it's like he's right behind her, a dagger poised above her heart in wait of just the right moment...

But he could never hurt her. A thousand soldiers would be upon him if he even thought of it. However much Odin may not like her, he would not see her dead. Thor told her so himself.

So Jane learns to co-exist with him. No longer grabs her books and run from him, she sits and relaxes and reads at her own pace and lets him sulk when he cannot scare her off. He's just a little boy with a rubber spider tied to a stick that he holds over her head. The unease doesn't fade overnight, but one day he sits openly at the opposite end of her table, and she hasn't a care in the world.

"Why are you with him?" he asks her out of the blue in a perfectly civil tone.

Jane gets over the shock of him addressing her in a very composed manner, and flips the page in her book like it doesn't bother her, reading the top paragraph of what is becoming the most interesting passage so far. He will not be spoiling this for her, no sir.

"I'm not with anyone," she says.

She never should have said that.

She should have given him nothing but silence; everything else is an opportunity for him to take what he wants. He sees the hidden meaning in her words, hears the regret that she doesn't notice herself. The power of words is an amazing thing. It's how she's come to be sleeping in a bed that isn't hers, in the arms of a man who isn't Thor. He whispers sweet, intoxicating words in her ear of all the wondrous places she will see.

Tomorrow will be a beautiful day in Asgard. Odin will tell her that it is time for her to return to her kind. Thor will argue her case out of obligation more than love, and he will fail to see the difference. Jane will stand before the bifrost she helped to restore and bear witness to Loki's escape. As his 'prisoner,' she will leave Asgard for good, and never again see her home world either.

How did it come to this? How did she go from Queen to criminal? How did she allow Loki's slow kisses in the dark to taint her soul black?

His finger on her chin pulls her face up to his. It's an eternity before their lips touch. In the bedroom, Loki is all about anticipation; he will poke and prod and have her ready to tear herself asunder with need, and only then will he grant her release. He takes her harder than the first time. She screams herself hoarse while he is deceptively quiet. His body language speaks for him, the words_ 'you are mine' _are in his every touch and thrust, and with each sound he wrests from her, she makes it true.

Maybe someday, he'll be hers as well.


	4. Day 31

**A/N: Here's one all you Lokiday fans will like! **

**Hopefully, you'll accept my apology for not updating in so long? (I swear to God I'm working on it)**

**The prompt was Banter.**

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><p>He's in the corner of the room, has been since she woke up. He's not doing or saying anything. He's not even looking her way as she writes on the chalkboard. A chaotic mess of useless equations is squeezed into the four corners, and all around the massive hole punched through the center. This thing was left in the basement labs for a reason, but it's the best she can do for now. Pretty soon, she'll have to come up with a routine for stealing the better equipment from upstairs, one that gets her around the many cameras nailed to the wall. Not to mention there isn't a single time of day that the halls are empty.<p>

Anyway, that's not the problem right now, Loki is. She has plenty of May 5ths to figure out her chalkboard problem. It's just like the ones in a math book; somewhere in all the many components is the solution she needs, it's just a matter of finding it.

Loki isn't like that. He is a living, breathing person- if one of questionable origins and sanity- who will no sooner spill his heart to her than profess his deep love and admiration of the human race. He's more than a closed book. He's a closed book with a stainless steel lock hidden away in a secret library halfway around the world protected by a dozen booby traps that would melt your face off if you touched.

Anything she asks him, he either brushes off or gives some vague excuse about it being 'unimportant' or 'not the right time' or 'you couldn't possibly understand with your pitiful mortal intellect, now be silent.' It never changes, even after so many days in his company and knowing him in the most physically intimate way possible. That's just it though, physical intimacy is the only way she can phrase what they have. She can't even call it 'friends with benefits' because they're sure as hell not friends.

She's distracted by a soft thumping, as he plays catch with an old, stained beaker. That it's cracked on one side doesn't escape her notice, and she winces each time she thinks he's going to miss and then he doesn't.

"You know, if you have time to do that, you could come over here and help me," she says.

"Of course I could."

He throws it a little higher now, almost to the ceiling and the flickering lights. It goes wildly off course, but comes right back to Loki like a piece of metal to a magnet, and he throws it again.

"So why don't you?" Jane asks, hands on her hips.

He looks up.

"Are you doing something useful over there?" He throws the beaker one more time and loses interest while it's still in the air. It falls to pieces inside the garbage can. "Or are you still fiddling with those numbers and trying to make me believe they are worthwhile?"

"Well, I'm not playing catch with myself," Jane answers sweetly. "So if anyone is making progress here…"

"I _am_ making progress." He vaults over a table to reach her, his unfair height advantage meaning he can spin the chalkboard to the blank other side, and she can't do anything about it. "I am progressively finding new ways to make your face that lovely shade of red that suits you so well."

From the way he smiles and the tingling of her cheeks, Jane knows that he has gotten what he wanted, and she could scream her rage to the rooftops. She won't though, because for all that Loki remains a mystery to her, one thing about him is as clear as day.

With a sultry smile, Jane leans in, letting her breath meet his ear in that way that always gets him. He doesn't disappoint as his throat closes up and his head tilts in her direction.

"You know," she says. "There are way better things we could be doing than messing with boring old numbers and playing kid's games."

She blows, and he shivers.

"Are there?" he says.

Jane grins the predator's grin she's learned from him.

"Of course there are."

She pulls away and walks out the door. She never looks back except when she's out in the hall and sees him in the corner of her eye, all shallow faced and sweaty, his mouth agape.

The next time she wakes up to 'Come On, Eileen' and Dr. Ahlberg and Jacobine's morning visits, Loki is there the second she's sent everyone off, his hands and mouth upon her.

They don't get out of bed for three hours.


	5. Offline

**A/N: This was written for a drabble meme that I reblogged one day (you get a symbol in your ask and you write a drabble based on the scenario that corresponds with the symbol). Tumblr user, justatriflewicked, sent in a 'you pick' symbol, so I went with 'Online Relationship', and this is what came of it.**

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><p><em>(Stargirl81 is now online)<em>

_(DLewis is now online)_

**DLEWIS: **Jane! Dude!

**STARGIRL81: **What is it, Darcy? You know I'm working right now.

**DLEWIS: **Then why are you on a chatroom?

**STARGIRL81: **I'm not. The website just automatically logs me in whenever I turn on the computer. I don't know how to disable that feature yet.

**DLEWIS: **Seriously? You have three degrees and you can even figure out how to work Yahoo! Messenger. No wonder I have to remind you to eat.

**STARGIRL81: **Just tell me what you want.

**DLEWIS: **I don't know if I want to now.

**STARGIRL81: **Darcy…

**DLEWIS: **Thor and Loki totally got Yahoo! Messenger!

**STARGIRL81: **So?

**DLEWIS: **WHADDAYA MEAN SO?

**DLEWIS: **I didn't even know they had computers!

**DLEWIS: **Can you imagine all the crap Loki can get up to if he's online?

**DLEWIS: **Pretty soon the entire country is going to be hacked with some kind of dancing snake video or a picture of Loki telling them to declare him king if they want their internet back.

**DLEWIS: **I don't know, whatever bit of insanity he comes up with this week.

**DLEWIS: **Did you know he switched around all the icons on my desktop? I try to check my antivirus and I wind up on Internet Explorer.

**DLEWIS: **INTERNET EXPLORER, JANE!

**DLEWIS: **JANE ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION?

**DLEWIS: **ANSWER ME!

**DLEWIS: **JANE?

_(iruleyou is now online)_

**DLEWIS: **You! Tell me what you did with Jane, you Internet Explorer using fiend!

**IRULEYOU: **I can assure you, Ms. Lewis, whatever I have engaged Jane Foster in is nothing that she did not give her explicit consent to.

**DLEWIS: **Like hell she did. I know Jane better than that! You probably have her on Internet Explorer right now, don't you?

**IRULEYOU: **Well, if you wish to know, perhaps you can come see for yourself. My new residence is only ten miles from yours.

**DLEWIS: **I'll be there in twenty minutes, and when I get there, so help me I will taser your ass so hard you won't know it from your elbow!

_(DLewis has logged off)_

**IRULEYOU: **You can come out now, dearest.

_(Stargirl81 is now visible)_

**STARGIRL81:** Thanks Loki. Maybe now I can get some work done.

**IRULEYOU: **It's a pleasure as always, Jane. In fact, I would not object to taking a little more of your time to make poor Darcy's assumptions a reality.

**STARGIRL81: **What?! Are you kidding me?

**IRULEYOU: **Why would I joke about this?

**STARGIRL81: **For God's sake, Loki! I'm WORKING, and this is a public chatroom. Anyone could come in and-

_(You are now in a private chat with iruleyou)_

**IRULEYOU: **Does this suit your needs?

**STAGIRL81: **How did you do that? I'm supposed to be able to reject a private chat.

**IRULEYOU: **Jane, Jane, Jane, you should know that I am far beyond such trivialities. Now then, seeing as we can't be together in person at the moment, would you like to hear about all that I plan to do to you on our next encounter? It will heavily involve showers, preceded by extensive use of that chocolate sauce concoction you are so fond of.

**STARGIRL81: **…I can spare ten minutes.

**IRULEYOU: **I thought so.


	6. Zombie Attack

**A/N: Like yesterday, this one came from a drabble meme. Hollywithaneye requested a zombie AU.**

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><p>Jane checks her pocket; only one magazine left. She glances up at the horde of shuffling, drooling undead closing in on her. Ten bullets for a hundred and something zombies. She doesn't need math to know that the odds are against her.<p>

Oh well, she hasn't survived this long by submitting to poor chances. These zombies want a fight, she's game.

She holds the gun the way Natasha taught her ages ago (she hopes to see the woman alive someday). The three zombies closest to her each receive a bullet to the head. Another two go down the same way. In quick succession the last five bullets exit out the barrel and enter a zombie's skull. Conserving bullets as much as possible is another thing Natasha taught her, but Jane is kind of beyond that at this point.

She drops the final magazine, kicking it away. Her empty gun hangs useless in her hand as she steps back to meet the wall. She molds herself to it. It would be nice if she could blend into the colors like some kind of chameleon.

Zombies hands paw at her stomach and chest, caring for nothing but the soft matter of her brain. They drone on, their gaping maws lowering to the top of her head.

A small dagger embeds itself in the lead zombie's eye. He sinks to his knees and falls forward. Jane shoves him, knocking over two more zombies who have no time to correct their (frankly awful) posture before two more daggers end their unlives as well. Jane ducks down, allowing a hundred more daggers to swarm from every direction. She'll never understand how he can do that, _and_ create twenty clones of himself to fight and confuse the zombies at the same time.

But he does, and now the zombies have lost whatever ranking they had as they fail to find a satisfying meal in one of the many Loki doubles, which vanish into thin air as soon as they are touched.

When only ten or so remain, the real Loki steps out at Jane's side, a fresh magazine in hand. He offers it to her like it's a flower, smiling innocently in the face of Jane's scowl.

"Do you _always_ have to do the whole dynamic entry thing? Why don't you just blow them all up or something?"

Jane reloads her gun and dispatches the remaining zombies. Turning to Loki again, he seizes the opportunity to lift her chin and steal a kiss that definitely does not leave her blushing.

"But Jane dear, it's so much more fun this way."


	7. Color Coordination

**A/N: This was a request from gabbiki on tumblr.**

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><p>For all that Jane has never cared for fancy clothing, she does at least like a little color. That's why she stocks her closet with all the reds and blues she can find, leaving room for a couple of yellows, purples and oranges. She doesn't want to get too repetitive.<p>

Green was usually the last color she would go with. She had nothing against it, it just never caught her eye like other colors did. It was the grass under her feet as she looked to the sky.

Even when Loki came around, with all his dark color schemes and style choices, it never really grew on her. If anything, it did the opposite.

Loki didn't help matters, because the word 'helpful' seemed to have been erased from his vocabulary a long time ago. This is how Jane finds herself in her closet, digging far enough to reach Narnia in her search for _something_ that's either not a shade of green or that she can actually remember owning.

"Loki!" she cries, ripping a light green button down blouse off the hanger and accidentally taking a forest green jumper with it.

"You called?" his silky voice comes from right behind her, but Jane doesn't jump. She's used to that by now. It's this latest prank that's new; trust him to be 'creative.'

"Can you explain this?" Jane throws a pair of green denim jeans at his head. They slip off his shoulders to the ground, and he nudges them with his shoe.

"Hmmm…" he takes the blouse from her. The care with which he examines each button drives Jane's patience further into the ground. "Well, it appears that you have finally taken my advice and made some changes in your wardrobe. I wholeheartedly approve, especially of your color choices."

He puts the blouse up to her neck, straightening the sleeves to get them just right over her arms. Jane slaps it out of his hands.

"Quit playing stupid, I know you did this!"

"While I can understand why you would think that," Loki glances into her closet, at the bright green sneakers and sandals sitting side by side, "I'm obligated to inform you that you have yet to give me any evidence of my involvement."

"Other than the fact that my clothes have magically changed color and you're the only person I know who can do that?" Jane snaps. "Or that you're_you_?"

From there, Loki is particularly showy in his phony efforts to solve the mystery of the repainted wardrobe. He studies the whole of it as one, then levitates random shirts and pants out to get a better look at them. Jane snatches each one out of the air, until every piece of clothing she owns is bunched up in her arms. She drops them, giving up completely, and wanting to go take a nap and have nice dreams where she picked Thor instead and didn't have to deal with this crap.

"Jane, I wish you wouldn't look at me like that, it is decidedly unappealing out of bed."

His eyes flick to the bed, his silent suggestion obvious, not to mention unwanted as all hell.

"Just fix this, and don't mess around with my clothes anymore!" Jane tosses him a tank top, which he doesn't try to catch. "Where do you even get the idea to do these things?"

She gets no answer, but she hardly cares as her wandering eye locks in on the dresser. Short, square and brown, with two rectangular drawers, it was easy to forget it was there unless one put it to good use. Jane has a specific use for it, one Loki is intimately aware of.

She darts to the dresser, placing herself between Loki and it's contents to deny him a look inside. Logically, he could stay exactly where he is can have a perfect view of her underwear drawer. Jane curses his superior height as she braces herself for the horrors she is about to witness.

She forces one eye open, to a collection of familiar white, beige and black. Tucked away in the far corner is a touch of red from their first night together, and that is the extent of the color. Jane hunches over, but the relief that washes over her is tainted by his laughter.

"Darling, please. Even I would not be so lecherous, assuming I was the cause of this."

As he crosses the room, her clothes fly back onto their hangers, neat as could be, but retaining that stupid color. Jane would try and think of a comeback, but she'd rather just have that nap now. If he could just leave…

"What I would do is make additions."

Jane's grip on the dresser tightens- it's a good thing the wood is too glossy for splinters.

She goes through the whole drawer removing every bra and pair of panties for her inspection. She holds them above her head to check for change or signs that they aren't hers, one after another. Loki lies down on the bed with his head in his hands, grinning.


	8. Gingerbread

**A/N: This was an anonymous request, and I should warn you, it was a cracky request, and I am a former crack writer, so it shows.**

**Also, gabbiki, the requester of yesterday's drabble, drew some very lovely fanart for the story that I almost forgot to mention. The link is in my profile. Check it out and give her some love.**

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><p>"Loki, you can forget about the Armani scarf under the tree. I AM GETTING YOU NOTHING BUT COAL THIS YEAR AND EVERY YEAR AFTER!"<p>

Loki licked his finger and flipped to a new page in his book. "I believe there are some holiday relevant connotations to that statement, however I don't care to remember what they are."

He set the book down- it was boring him anyway. Watching Jane fight off a pair of life sized, sweet smelling cookie men, armed with a kitchen knife and sheer force of will (the very one that made him take her as his lover in the first place), was far more entertaining.

Here now, she fought valiantly against her unrelenting foes. Their faces were so life-like, but their eyes so false, and smiles so empty. They promised much, but gave only fear in return. Not to Jane, though.

Not to Darcy Lewis either for that matter.

"Veer a little to the left, Jane! Righty's about to steal a kiss."

Jane heeded her words, though she was sure to shoot Darcy a glare as the other woman nibbled on the neck of her gingerbread man. The pleasured moans he/it made could only be made worse with the obnoxious way Darcy chomped on the thing.

"Darling, you are as fierce as a jungle lion," said the gingerbread man on the right as Jane plunged the knife into his shoulder. It stuck out at an angle, creating a massive crack from his armpit to his leg, but she might as well have just thrown a paper wad for all the good that it did.

"There are no lions in the jungle!" Jane shouted.

She searched the drawer for another knife. Loki didn't need to look to know she was down to the butter knives. The only other sharp knife she had was jutting out of 'Lefty's' cream drop eye. They had once had a third member, until that one turned out to be a little too forward for Loki's liking. Once his hands started groping at Jane's bottom, he had to put his foot down, and now the half of him that hadn't exploded was food for the cats in the alley.

"Loki, you are unbelievable," Jane ground out. It was much more intimidating than the way she closed in on the gingerbread men, her butter knife held like Excalibur itself.

"You said that once before," Loki replied. "I think I liked the context better then."

"I'm not talking to you anymore!" she shouted at him. "I mean it's one thing to not like Christmas but you know, normal people don't express it like this."

"Normal people _can't_ express it like this, more likely."

"Normal people know that doing things like this is completely insane! That's why they're _normal!_"

"Oh, darling your rage is so enticing," said the gingerbread man on the right. The knife handle prodded at Jane's collar until she backed off. "Might I sample it?"

"_What_- that doesn't… I don't know whether to be grossed out or angry anymore!"

"In their defense, Jane," said Loki with a lewd smile. "You _are_ quite ravishing when you're angry."

Jane gaped at him, the butter knife falling from her hands with a clatter.

"That's it," she said.

She ran to the refrigerator and back. Out came the newly purchased carton of skim milk, which she worked open and aimed at the gingerbread men.

"Back up, NOW," she cried out. "Or so help me, I will drench you and tear you apart with my bare hands!"

"Exhibit A," said Loki to himself as Jane proceeded to do just that with great relish- for her and for the gingerbread men.

"Hey, you two have fun over there!" Darcy shouted from the living room, which she was in the process of leaving with her gingerbread man, the bedroom just a few doors away. "I'll see you in the morning- assuming I'm not in a diabetic coma or something, in which case, just leave me to ascend into paradise."

"You have such an eloquent way of speaking," says the enamored gingerbread man, his uneaten eye beholding her like a rare gem. "I could lose myself in the gentle intoning of your voice."

"Dude, just shut up and let me eat your other arm."


	9. Stars Above

**A/N: This was a request from l-o-k-i-hiddleston (Anonymous Companion). **

**You'll notice that I've marked this story complete. That is only because I have no more drabbles to post at this moment in time. At some point in the next few days, I may take some requests and have more to post. I'm not sure when that will be. Until then, thanks for reading!**

* * *

><p>Jane halts in her actions- the tiny ceramic angel will have to wait to find a spot on the tree. Tiny sparks of magic bounce off her neck, harmless, but so very annoying. His laughter builds when she turns, and the three floating baubles change their pattern from circling behind her head to around it.<p>

"Loki, that was funny for five seconds," she says. "now, it needs to stop."

The baubles all drop, one of them landing in her hand. She sets it aside to use next, it'll go well in the spot between the Santa head and the glass heart.

From where he sits on the couch with his feet up, Loki scoffs.

"I could have that tree decorated in nothing flat, and save you all this trouble," he says.

"I _want_ to do it myself, for the hundredth time," she said.

Loki always wants to take on her workload with that oh-so-fancy and convenient magic of his. For now, he'd drawn the line at her day job, but pretty soon, he'll be turning her lab into an exact replica of Yggdrasil for her. Even now, he just can't accept that his backhanded attempts at 'assistance' aren't wanted, not without a roll of his eyes and a comment or two.

"If it's so important that you do all the work yourself, why were you so eager to let me carry the tree and put it into place?"

"You may not have noticed, but Christmas trees are heavy."

Jane deliberates over whether a bowtie or a snowman would look better next to the snowflake, and yet no matter how much she sets her mind to it, his voice rings loud and clear.

"_That_ was heavy? A child could have done it."

"An Asgardian child maybe…" she replies.

Jane steps back when her work is done. She's stepped up her effort from last year; having someone to celebrate with helps no matter how apathetic he was. She'd even made a new popcorn garland instead of just rehashing the old one. She has the bandaged fingers to show for it. There's just one more thing she needs, and then the tree will be perfect. The barren top will look perfect with the star she bought. It was inexpensive and plastic, but pretty all the same. At the store, she'd been undeterred by the many nicer ones that wouldn't fit into her budget no matter how hard she tried.

She fishes for the box amid all the empty, overturned ones. Tossing them aside, she seeks out a hint of dark blue with the store's logo, but there is nothing. Jane backs up again, appraising the boxes, but the one she needs is nowhere in sight.

"Where's my star?" she asks herself. "I could've sworn I brought it down…"

A brilliant glow has Jane looking up. What she sees drives the store bought star out of mind forever. The tiny cloud of golden whiteness hovers above her, first stationary, then making slightly jerky movements left. It stops above the tree and descends. At the first hint of foliage, the light dims into a five pointed star. It shines with the purest light Jane has ever seen.

"Wow…" she whispers.

"And that is why you should let me help you," Loki says smugly. "It makes everything better, does it not?"

Jane would yell at him if she wasn't smiling so hard.


	10. With This Ring

**A/N: This was a request by aenigmaticdays.**

* * *

><p>"This is all your fault. Completely and totally."<p>

Jane spun herself around in her chair, denying him the right to fight back to her face, so Loki made due with glaring daggers at the top of her head. He wished he had a real one just so he could dispatch it from the rest of her body. After the day he just spent, it would have been greatly cathartic.

'Would have' were the key words. The whole scenario ran on the assumption that letting her die would not be the death of him!

One table over, Frigga searched an enormous, ancient tome for answers. A yellow gleam surrounded the book as it floated off the table, pages turning at a speed second to none. A thoughtful stare graced Frigga's aging but always lovely features.

"Just a little longer, dears," she said. "Now stop pouting, Loki. It's unseemly."

She hadn't once looked his way, not that she ever had to. Loki wasn't pouting, though. Princes did not pout. Children who didn't get their way pouted, not grown men of status who just so happened to 'luck' their way into a bonding ritual with a mortal.

Said mortal appeared to be doing everything in her power to ignore his existence. Two could happily play at that game.

"A-ha!"

Frigga's declaration earned rapt attention from Thor, but Loki and Jane were too busy giving each other the silent treatment to acknowledge anything that went beyond their little world. They kept their arms crossed and their backs turned away from each other until Frigga sighed and muttered a familiar spell. A faint red cloud formed between Loki and Jane, the pair of them blind to it. Thor wasn't, and he remembered all too well a childhood full of rambunctious disobedience that had created that spell. He ducked for cover, leaving the happy couple to take the thunderous blast of noise that threw them off their feet. The cloud dissipated, a sweetly smiling Frigga all that remained.

"Now that I have your attention," she said, "I think I have what you're looking for."

She patted the book and the page she'd left off on, covered in tiny script Jane Foster could never hope to understand. Loki smirked when she all but ran to have a look, and in an instant, her joy melted into confusion.

"Is it a way to end it… this 'bond' or whatever it is?"

Frigga pursed her lips.

"Well, this page is more of an overview." She ran regal fingers over the top line. "It's an archaic ritual, created by the first of our ancestors millennia ago. Back then, marriage had fewer connotations than it does today. There was no ceremony or celebration. Those with magic would be called on to invoke the rights and privately perform the ritual. It was over and done with in seconds."

"Yeah, I know," Jane muttered, playing with her wrist and the swirling red vines crawling up her skin. Loki twitched involuntarily. The vines on his wrist twisted tantamount with hers. He had a sneaking suspicion this wasn't the last time it would happen.

"There were several requirements that needed to be met before a ritual could commence," Frigga went on. "It needed to be at night, under a clear sky. The bride and groom were to be holding hands, though it looks like any sort of skin to skin contact was acceptable. At the time of the accident, what were you two doing?"

"We were having a_ discussion_," Loki said before Jane could start. "She tried to slap me again, so I stopped her hand."

Frigga nodded.

"The next requirement is that the bride and groom must make a vow to always remain at each other's side."

Jane, who had been fiddling with a strip of splintered wood on one of the older bookshelves, became the next victim of Frigga's scrutinizing gaze. This time, she would not escape so easily.

"Jane?" she asked.

Loki smelled her anxiety like sweet honey. If only he could play with it without fear of his mother's wrath.

Jane sighed deeply. "We were fighting," she said. "Or having a discussion or whatever you want to call it, and I wanted him to apologize to me, and I told him I wouldn't go until he did."

"What were your exact words?"

There was another moment's hesitation.

"I said... 'I will never leave you alone until you apologize.'"

"Ah!" Frigga cried. "So you vowed never to leave him."

"Until he apologized!"

"It doesn't matter. You began with 'I will never leave you.' That's all you need."

It seemed that was when Jane Foster's puny mind finally ran itself dry, and discernible language became impossible. A meaningless cry was all she could manage as her legs gave out and she slumped to the ground, blissfully silent.

A look of pity crossed Frigga's face, and Loki refrained from telling her she shouldn't waste her energy on such an unworthy being. He didn't need to hear anything about 'respecting his wife,' as if he actually had one.

"It still makes no sense, mother," he said, coming up to her side to read over her shoulder. "If these are really the requirements for a ritualistic marriage, wouldn't mistaken ones be more common? Surely Jane Foster and I are not the only ones on Asgard to ever fight on sacred grounds and make false promises out of anger."

"You are right as always, son," Frigga said, patting his head in that way he had to pretend he didn't like. "There is one final requirement, perhaps the most important one of all."

She moves the book around for him, pointing at the middle of the page.

"The bride must possess a gift hand-crafted by her groom, worn on the arm or around the neck," he read.

"Jane? You were wearing the bracelet I loaned you for the party, yes?" Frigga called over to her. "The green and gold one?"

Loki's insides froze, colder than the icy winds of Jotunheim.

"You gave her the bracelet I made you?!" he shouted. "I put my blood and sweat into crafting it piece by piece for a hundred years and you let that mortal tramp-"

The red cloud was twice as big, and three times as fast, so not even Thor could dodge this time. Loki flew into the back wall, his magic buffering him to absorb the worst of the shock. It did little for the pain, though.

"Loki," Frigga intoned, approaching her son with the countenance of a hunter after her prey. "You will _not_ raise your voice to me, and you will _not_ speak of your wife that way. You will apologize to her right now, and then you will show her the gardens on the southeast side. I'm sure you remember them?"

The southeast garden was Frigga's. She had grown it from a single seed and nurtured all that came of it. The flowers grew with her boys, tall and strong. Now, Frigga's special magic pulsed within the air itself. No matter what went on in that garden, Frigga would know. She could sense every little pleasure and every wisp of negativity. From her eyes, none could ever hide.

"I understand," Loki mumbled, and Frigga knew he did.

Picking himself up, he bowed his head to her and then to Jane (much quicker). His apology was almost unintelligible, and not at all to Jane's satisfaction. Loki could manipulate the stars themselves to spell out how deeply sorry he was, and it wouldn't be enough, simply because it was Loki.

The two of them shuffled out of the room, taking their crippling animosity with them. The twin marks on their wrists that forever bound them danced at the contact.

With them gone, Thor turned to his mother.

"Is it wise to send them off on their own? I can't imagine Loki will be much of a gentleman, or Jane a lady."

"They will be fine," Frigga said, turning to the next page and marking it. "If worst comes to worst, the separation ritual takes a mere fortnight to prepare, but I doubt it will come to that."

"With all due respect, mother, Loki and Jane Foster have displayed nothing short of complete disdain for each other from the moment they met. I have a hard time believing that could ever turn into love."

Frigga chuckled. The book floated back into place as she left her seat and looped an arm around Thor's, leading the two of them out.

"You'd be surprised to find how often true love begins in shaky waters," she said. "Believe me, my son. I would know."

At Thor's questioning gaze, Frigga would only smile.


	11. Terry

**This was an anonymous request, and I'm not sure, but I think it's the same anon who requested the gingerbread man drabble.**

**Happy Birthday, Tom Hiddleston**

**  
>"Hey there, Jane! Sorry to barge in, but I need to borrow some- HOLY CALL OF CTHULHU, WHAT IS THAT?!"<p>

Darcy Lewis looked positively cartoonish as she twitched and pointed at the monster curled up at Jane Foster's feet. Her jaw fell; any further down and it would unhinge like a snake's.

In the face of such abject petrification, the best Jane could come up with was a nervous laugh and a sheepish rub of her neck. It was really no wonder she didn't have many friends.

"Hi, Darcy!" Jane waved, seemingly ignorant of her intern's hunched over posture and the way the color had sucked out of her face. "Happy Valentine's Day."

There was an obvious underscore of comfort that Jane was trying to convey. Unfortunately, Darcy's brain was still in the process of crashing and re-starting, otherwise it might have caught on.

"Haaaaaaa…" Darcy's limp wrist swung weakly in the general direction of Jane's feet, and of… whatever that thing was nuzzling it's tentacled face around her ankles and _purring_.

"Oh, I almost forget," said Jane, who definitely _had not forgotten at all, so who the hell did she think she was kidding?! _Jane nudged at one of the tentacles, prompting the creature to remove itself from her and stand. It reached a height that would put the Hulk to shame. "Darcy, I'd like you to meet Terry. Terry, Darcy."

The tentacles blew outward, from the force of the breath the beast released. Something resembling a 'hello' could be heard if one listened closely, and drank several shots of tequila beforehand.

Darcy, however, was completely sober.

Probably.

About 80 to 85 percent for sure.

She took one step forward, then thought it over and took two steps back. The thing blinked it's bug-like black eyes at her, tilting it's head to one side, as if trying to determine if she fell under the category 'friend' or 'dinner'.

"Hi there," Darcy waved awkwardly, her fingers half curled in. "Uh… it's nice to meet you… Terry. Terry…?"

She glanced helplessly at Jane, for more reasons than one, as 'Terry' appeared to be crouching down in preparation for a pounce. Jane placed a hand on it's… arm… calling off the attack for now.

"Yeah, uh… apparently, it's real name is untranslatable and way too long to remember anyway," Jane explained, "so Loki said I should just call him Terry. It's close enough."

Make that 70 percent.

"Wait a second," Darcy cried out. "Loki got that for you? Loki- actually no, I'm not shocked. I'm not shocked at all. Why would I be?"

A delirious laugh filled the room, mingling with the baritone grinding of Terry, who seemed to think Darcy was playing some kind of game, and was eager to join in. Another shushing from Jane later, and it was once more docile at her feet. Meanwhile, Darcy was not even close to stopping. If anything, her good humor increased.

"Darcy, knock it off!" Jane shouted in vain. "This isn't funny."

"Isn't funny?!" Darcy shouted in between guffaws. "Jane, there is nothing _not_ funny about this. Except for the fact that after everything this whackjob has done, you're still with him!"

"Hey! You know as well as anyone that Loki has changed. He hasn't tried to take over the world in months!"

"Oh yeah?" Darcy shot back, having finally gotten herself under control just in time for one of Terry's tentacles to run up Jane's leg to her waist, rewarded with a pat on the creature's head… shaped thing. "Let's think about that for a second. Case in point: last Valentine's Day, one of the coldest in history."

"I remember, Darcy," Jane said, groaning. Undeterred, Darcy went on.

"You made the wise decision to complain to Loki that your heater was broken, and that you'd like some hotter weather. So what does he do, Jane?"

Darcy rotated her hands, in the universal 'get on with it' sign. Jane was clearly wondering if she could get away with having Terry eat Darcy as she sighed and mumbled.

"He put a volcano in the-"

"A vol-fucking-cano!" Darcy shrieked, unable to wait any longer. "In the _backyard_, Jane!"

"He took it right out!"

"After two weeks and three eruptions!" Darcy was literally pulling at her hair by now. "I still have a bald spot back here from the last one!"

Darcy scratched furiously at said spot, knocking off her hat and the sections of hair carefully placed to cover it.

"So what did you tell him this time?" Darcy asked with a manically. "Let me guess, you extolled to him your deep, unending love of HP Lovecraft."

"No," Jane snapped, only to lose the bite to her bark mere moments later. "I… I said that I was in the mood for some squid."

Darcy gave her a look.

"Squid as in _food_," Jane elaborated. "I wanted to go out for sushi, but I guess he didn't get it, or-"

"Oh, I think he got it, Jane," Darcy said, nodding her head. "I think he got it perfectly. He just decided to fulfill your little Valentine's wish in his own twisted way, which is how you got your hands on Squidward Tentacles over here."

As if things couldn't get any worse, the creature started to whimper, and hide away from Darcy's penetrating gaze behind the safety of Jane's legs.

And as if _that_ wasn't bad enough, the temperature in the room proceeded to do a nosedive, as familiar, haunting laughter filled the air. It started out kind of echo-y, only to solidify alongside it's owner. He cast a long shadow over Darcy.

"Now, now, Miss Lewis," Loki said, waving his finger in a 'tut tut' sort of motion. "You should choose your words more carefully. Regardless of what your misguided scribes of old have led you to believe, Terry is of a very friendly and sensitive breed. He's also quite intelligent, capable of learning any language within just a few weeks."

At this, Terry stepped slightly into the open, groaning something that sounded vaguely like 'A, B, C, D, E,-'

"Not only that, but he loves meeting people," Loki grinned in the most normal, 'I-am-not-a-psychopath' way he could manage, which just made him look twice as psychotic. "Why don't you go and say a proper hello?"

He gestured her over to Jane and Terry. When Darcy wouldn't move, he 'gently' guided her there. Any attempt to break free was half-assed at best, not that Darcy had a prayer of escaping him even if she did fight back. The fear was too debilitating. From this close, more of Terry's disturbing features came into view, from the scaly, spindly appendages one might mistake for fingers, to the sheen of mucus that coated him from 'head' to… feet type things.

Darcy felt as though her soul had left her body, and she watched from afar her arm reaching out and coming to rest just over Terry's left eyeball. Warm wetness against her skin brought her back to reality. Darcy fought not to gag as Terry let out another purr and closed his eyes, pressing himself more into her touch.

The bizarre thing about it was- as the seconds dragged on the initial disgust wore off- it really wasn't so bad petting him. Maybe it was because he hadn't chomped her arm off yet and she'd been lulled into a false sense of security. Or maybe it was the sudden lack of Loki's weight at her back that allowed her to breathe easier, and see that up close, there was something kind of… _cute_ about Terry.

A really, really,_ really_ ugly sort of cute, but cute all the same.

"See that?" Loki said to Jane as he wrapped an arm around her waist. "I told you they'd get along swimmingly."

There was a long pause before Jane answered. Out the corner of her eye, Darcy could see her watching them, with a less than enthused look on her face. For the first time all day, Darcy wanted to tell her to stop worrying. It was all good.

"I guess you're right," Jane said, though a twinge of uncertainty still found it's way into her tone.

"Of course I am," Loki jovially declared, "and now that our pet-sitter has arrived, let us be off, Jane. I have a night prepared for you that you will never forget."

Darcy listened along to the lines of conversation until the moment it hit her.

"PET-SITTER?!"

But they were already gone.


	12. A Modest Proposal

**A/N: This is a Valentine's Day prompt request from aenigmaticdays.**

**Hope you all had a good one!**

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><p>They say there is no such thing as a perfect moment.<p>

Actually, Darcy Lewis said that, but the way she phrased it implied the influence of some unseen other, whom she can identify only as 'they'.

Whoever 'they' are, they clearly have never met Loki.

Telling Loki he can't do something is usually a short path to getting your words shoved so far down your throat that you choke to death, if you're lucky. That is what makes Darcy a bonafide luckchild. She got away without a scratch on her, though the same cannot be said for her funny little music device, the pieces to which she was still tearing the lab apart looking for when Loki left her. On the way out, he dropped off those bits of her 'ipod' somewhere in the desert for safekeeping, and promptly forgot which patch of sand he'd left them on once Jane arrived to meet him.

Oh, well.

Jane is radiant in her curve-hugging blue dress, the one she bought especially for this occasion. It is complemented by the sapphire earrings he hand crafted for her on her last birthday, and the slick sheen of her newly styled hair that frames a face made up to emphasize her natural beauty. Loki isn't too proud to say he's speechless at the sight of her.

"I hope this place is really as upscale as you say it is," she says on the way down the busy Parisian streets. She moves awkwardly in heels she probably regrets buying. Her dress serves her no better for travel. She shivers in the nippy winter air, prompting Loki to shed his suit jacket and drape it around her.

"Of course it is," he says, "I would never lead you astray, darling."

He isn't lying, not really. If he were to tell the whole truth, he'd have to explain all the trips he'd taken to different parts of Midgard, sampling all her favorites at the finest restaurants he could find, looking for just the right one for tonight. He'd have to admit that almost all of Midgard's cuisine ranged from sub-par to downright nauseating (not that it was the Midgardian's faults his tastes were so much more advanced than theirs').

And, of course, he'd have to tell her the real reason he's arranged this whole evening.

From the start, things go according to plan. They arrive in the country of France at sunset. Loki did a little research into the nation after choosing it, the gist of it seeming to be that they were overly fond of cheese and abysmal at warfare. Thor would not be pleased.

That aside, the city of Paris was known for it's attention to romance, to the point of being a cliche in the eyes of some. While the opinion of the average Midgardian is something Loki would rarely give credence to, even he must admit that at first glance, Paris is not the fairy tale come alive it is billed as, at least not during daytime.

It's nearing 9 in the evening. The Eiffel tower shines a golden light, like a beacon. Jane, for all that she finds the wonders of the universe above preferable to what is under her feet, is mesmerized by the city's beauty, even as he must secretly spell her into some more comfortable shoes before she breaks her ankles.

That is a minor flaw in an otherwise perfect start to their perfect night. Loki laughs in the face of that metaphorical 'they'.

Their dining experience similarly goes off without a hitch. It would have been a blow to his pride if Jane's meal had been anything below orgasmic. She raves about it even after they have paid and left, until Loki must silence her by force, cloaking them in light and stars to bring them to their next stop, the most important of them all.

"Close your eyes," he tells her, as his magic surges and transports them away from the unknowing populace. He keeps her blind even after they have arrived. A new kind of cold threatens to freeze them to the bone, but Loki is quicker. Jane feels not a whiff of it, there is only warmth around her, from his magic and his body.

"Can I open them?"

"Not yet."

Loki waves his hands in intricate motions, weaving magic through the air that paints the sky and dulls away all sound. When the roar of the wind is all one can hear, Loki takes her by the hand.

"Alright, now."

He revels in her gasp, that tiny exclamation of shock and awe, the likes of which only a new break in her research can illicit. He has never told her how much he loves it, but there are a great many things about her that he loves. Simply telling her all of them when he could be showing her would be a waste. That is why they are here tonight, in this place where the stars and galaxies afar are hers to cherish. Spread out through the sky, they could give one an impression of smallness, even Jane seems intimidated by the depths of universe, that she might be seeing for the first time with her own eyes.

"Oh my god..."

There is a little quip he could make about that statement, but he'll save it for later. Why spoil the mood?

"I take it you like my surprise?"

It must take all her will to tear her eyes away, and let him see the gleam of unshed tears. Her mouth is poised in an 'o' shape, her red lips plump and delicious to behold. It makes him wish he could skip ahead to the kiss. It's sure to be the best either of them have ever had.

"Loki," she says, choking on her own words. "How did you..."

He shushes her gently.

"It matters not _how_," he says, "it is the _why_ that is important, and the why Jane, is that I want this to be the most wonderful night of your life. I want this to be a night that you will look back on, with tears in your eyes and joy in your heart. Tonight, if you will allow me, I wish to prove the depths of my feelings for you."

Loki's free hand reaches behind his back, removing the tiny velvet box from thin air. With no time left to think or to wonder or to fear rejection, Loki drops to one knee as Darcy trained him to. His fingers rub up and down the smooth skin of her knuckles, as another gasp graces her lips.

"Jane Foster," Loki says, feeling for the first time like he could cry with her. "Would you do me the great honor of being my-"

An explosion drowns out the last word. Loki goes flying, almost over the edge of the tower. A quickly placed shield bounces him back into place as he follows the sound of Jane's screams to find her on the ground, her hair a mess and her dress askew.

"Are you alright?" he asks, taking her face in his hands to assess the damage.

He doesn't get an answer, but for a red and gold blur to land with a metallic thud. As the suit of armor raises to full (unimpressive) height, the mask retracts to reveal a bearded, grinning face.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Rudolph!" Tony Stark shouts.

And he doesn't spontaneously catch fire right after, the way he should have.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" Loki roars.

Unfazed, Stark makes wide motions at the city of Paris, sans electrical power. Outside of his and Jane's little bubble, Loki can hear the faint rise of shouting and rioting down below. He hopes Jane can't hear it too, because he knows he'll get an earful later if she can.

"I was in the middle of a romantic date with my lovely CEO-slash- girlfriend," says Stark like his problems are something that matters, "when all of a sudden, the power goes out! Then I go to investigate, and I find you guys stargazing on top of the Eiffel tower. Aren't there planetariums for things like this?"

Loki doesn't know if Stark is addressing him or Jane with that last question, but either way, he's going to crush the man's head into jelly before this is over.

"I am trying to propose marriage to Jane," Loki hisses at him. His magic cracks threateningly, not that Stark is sensible enough to take the hint.

"Oh, well, my apologies then," says Stark, hands up in surrender. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't harnessing the city's power for some kind of death ray or whatever. Wouldn't have been a bad spot if you were, considering France's less than stellar track record with wars... it's just too bad I already called for backup."

Loki is only half listening at that point, as he goes again to check on Jane and tries to think of some other location he can take them to that suits his purposes. Then, a hundred lights feeding from a hundred helicopters- all with SHIELD's logo- descend upon them. The force is powerful enough to catch the couple unprepared. Before he can come to her aid, Jane is thrown off her feet once again, the hem of her dress riding dangerously up.

By the end of it all, Paris is a warzone, Tony Stark is down one more suit of armor, SHIELD needs several weeks to thaw out their hundred helicopters from a city sized block of ice, and Loki has to settle for a proposal in Jane's New Mexico lab, with Darcy sitting off to the side, eating Pringles and browsing a Best Buy catalog for her new ipod.


	13. See You Soon

**A/N: This was a request from puresummermagic.**

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><p>Loki opens the door and loses his footing at once. Over the rich crescendo of battle, he can hear her voice, sweet, yet fearful, calling his name as she rushes to him. Her hands wrap around his shoulders as she tries to look him over. Loki resists her efforts for as long as he can, until his throat constricts and he hacks up a pint of blood. His ears rang, so loud that he's deaf to her shouts, even as she's sitting right beside him.<p>

The roar of explosives is what finally pulls him out of it. There's no way of knowing which side just launched an attack, but Loki has a bad feeling it isn't theirs. Before, when he saw the men manning Asgard's cannons, they were shouting desperately to their superior that they were down to ashes and sawdust. That was before him and Thor made their final, desperate stand against the invaders. The last time Loki saw Thor, he was taking on ten at once. Mjolnir sang with devastating power that would nevertheless not be enough for all of them. Thor knew that, and it's with a sense of grief Loki never thought he could feel for Tho that he looks out the window at the clear, cloudless sky.

"Loki…" Jane is at a loss for what to do, it's in her every word. That she can't help him is no secret. He is losing strength fast and can no longer stop her from laying him out on the floor to see the enormous hole in his stomach. Blood gushes from the wound, enough that it no longer hurts him. There is a numbness instead, that hides from him Jane's fruitless efforts to close the wound until he looks up and sees her divest of her outer robe. Pressed against the hole, it soaks up blood that stains her fingers red. Tears creep down her face a mile a minute. She's speaking words he cannot comprehend. She throws aside the ruined cloth and starts ripping the blankets from their bed. Loki forces his arm up to grab her, stopping her.

"Jane," he coughs out. He's not sure if she can hear him; he can hardly hear himself. "Stop… it's too late."

"Don't say that," she cries. "You can't mean-"

He makes her drop the sheet. Her knees buckle and she falls. She plants herself directly over him, looking down. Her hair tickles his face, the only sensation he is capable of feeling anymore. She presses a hand to his forehead, her clammy skin chilling him where it should have warmed. Unless that's just his body shutting down from blood loss.

"Jane," he says her name again. He could say it a million times if it gave him just a little more time with her. "There is not much time."

He focuses his magic, just enough to summon one more dagger. Their hands entwine around it. Jane winces as it cuts into her skin, but as their blood mingles together, a peace comes over her, the same resignation that he has felt all along.

Outside, the battle heats up, as news of the Princes' fall reaches the despairing soldiers. Screams fill the halls as the walls of the palace are breached. Swords swing and heads roll, and it's only a matter of time before they find this place.

"Are you ready?" Loki asks.

Jane smiles weakly and shakes her head.

"Not really," she says. "This was supposed to be a happy day."

Loki laces their fingers together. If he could, he would transfer some relaxing suggestions through the contact, like he used to when the sun still shone on them, before all of this.

"I don't know about you, but I'm feeling very spirited right now."

It's a bad attempt at a joke, and they both know it, but it's all Loki has anymore, and in another minute, he might not even have that.

"Remember the words," he says to her, and his other hand clamps over the one joined with hers. "I, Loki Odinson of Asgard..."

She hiccups, and swallows back tears to answer: "I, Jane Foster of Midgard..."

"Do take you, Jane Foster of Midgard, as my wife…"

"Do take you, Loki Odinson of Asgard, as my husband…"

"To love and honor for all of my days…"

"To love and honor for all of my days…"

"To protect and care for…"

"To protect and care for…"

"With all that I am…"

"With all that I am…"

"And with the strength of my love as my guide…"

"And with the strength of my love as my guide…"

His palm takes on a warm tingle, the magic forming a brilliant golden aura that binds their hands and their souls.

"Let this be my promise…"

Someone is bashing on the door. Jane bites down on her lip as her hand trembles, but her voice rings true:

"Let- Let this be my promise…"

"From now, until the end of my days."

"From now, until the end of my days."

"And beyond."

The addition catches her by surprise, but as the magic swirls and fuses, and he can feel her pain, her fear, her longing for a future that will never be. Most of all, he feels her hope, that maybe there can still be something for them, in a place where there is no war and no death; hope that he inspires in her, as she once did for him.

"And beyond," she finishes.

The first lock breaks. The enemy screams bloody murder, his name on their lips.

Jane lets go of him.

She still has the dagger.

Loki's vision fades to darkness.

The dagger slashes through skin.

The door caves inward.

Jane's body falls on top of him.

In those final few seconds, Loki feels her skin and his body relaxes.

He smiles.

_'Seen you soon, Wife.'_


	14. Persuasion

**A/N: This was an anonymous request. Please be aware of the increase in rating and that there is a very good reason for it before you proceed. ;)**

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><p>There are times when Jane thinks she's hit the jackpot: dating a man with the face of an angel and the body of a male model, who, at the time same, can keep up with her intellectually and is never predictable.<p>

Then there are times when Jane remembers all that crazy 'world domination' stuff Loki used to be about. And _then_ there are times when Loki proves himself to be really no different than any other man.

"Please?"

She inches down the length of Loki's body, devoid of all but loose fitting pajama pants, which she now slides off of him to reveal his throbbing arousal. He groans when she wraps her tongue around the shaft, licking up and down in slow, fluid motions.

"Pretty please?"

She takes the whole of him into her mouth, sucking liberally as he grips the sides of her head, holding her gently in place.

"I... will not... never..."

Jane cradles his balls between her fingers, and he gasps and bucks instinctively. Jane somehow avoids gagging long enough to finish him. He releases into her mouth and Jane swallows it back in one big gulp. The aftertaste will persist for some time, but the heated kiss that follows takes away some of it. Loki's tongue sweeps along her mouth, running the line of her teeth before he stops to catch his breath.

They lay tangled in each other's arms for some time. Maybe it's an hour, maybe it's five minutes. Jane can't be sure. After a while, she nudges him.

"So, will you do it?"

At first, Loki is silent. Jane thinks that he might have fallen asleep until she looks up and sees him watching her. His eyes are burning, and Jane has no time to prepare before he attacks. He throws her onto her back, pressing her down with his body. His mouth latches onto her throat and trails a heady line to her lips. While Jane is distracted with that, Loki thrusts into her. Jane's gasp is swallowed up by his tongue, as he moves at a steadily increasing pace. He slides almost all the way out, then slams back in. So many times that Jane can't be bothered counting.

Her higher brain functions turn to mush as he brings her closer and closer to the moon and then pushes her over. Jane screams openly, he wants to hear this. Her climax roars through her as he grunts and lets himself go as well.

Their cooling bodies come to rest amid torn, ruined sheets. Loki raises himself up, already having regained himself while she is still struggling to string two words together (curse his stamina).

He presses a kiss to her forehead, taking in her glazed over eyes and sweat drenched skin. He grins.

"Oh, how could I say no to a face like that?"

The doorbell rings five times in quick succession. Like always, Darcy follows by unlocking the door herself and barging in with a kick and a shout.

"Good afternoon, lovebirds! You'd better not be getting it on in there, because it is sixteen hours to Valentine's Day and if I don't find the right gift for Ian, nobody will be sleeping tonight! Also, I was thinking we'd stop at the Apple store afterwards..."

Loki rolls his eyes, and Jane can't exactly blame him. Getting out of bed, his clothes form around him as he walks out of the room.

"I'd only do this for you, Jane," he says.

Jane rests her head in her hands and she grins.

"I know."

"HELLOOOO? Is someone taking me to the mall or what? Jane! Loki! One of you, put your pants back on and get out here!"

Loki exhales hard through his teeth.

"_Only_ for you."


	15. Loose Lipped

**A/N: This was a request from calie1003.**

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><p>They actually didn't fight that often.<p>

A lot of people would be surprised to hear it. Darcy sure was, she thought they were lying. Erik was worse, he thought Loki was manipulating Jane into complacency, because _of course_ couples fought. Did she really expect him to believe otherwise?

It was easy to ignore them, and anyone else who thought their relationship was doomed to fail (read: everyone). They spent their days quietly (nights were another story), Jane might make some new breakthrough in her research with Loki's help, Loki might narrowly avoid a skirmish with SHIELD or the Avengers and need Jane to bail him out. If Jane had some free time, Loki would take her out for a date night, to whatever part of the globe had caught his interest this week.

Fights tended to enter the mix only on special occasions. Like when Jane got a little too reckless and nearly killed herself trying to get data during a storm. Or that time Loki misinterpreted a man asking Jane for the time as an attempt at flirting and turned him into a fire ant. Sometimes, fights happened for no other reason than one of them having an off day and the other making some innocuous comment to unintentionally set them off.

Usually, though, it was something like the first two things.

"Loki, I swear to God, if you don't apologize and fix this right now, I will ban you from this lab _and_ my apartment, and you can sleep on the roof for all I care. And don't even think about turning that 'god' part around to make it about you!"

The door to the lab hung slightly open, Darcy right outside it. The glass was her shield as Loki and Jane stared at her, until she had no choice but to walk inside and put her bag down.

"Yeah... I'm just gonna make myself a smoothie," she said. "I'll be back in an hour or six. Don't mind me!"

She walked backwards, moving out of their sight as if they couldn't hear her when she started running. With her gone, the paths were clear, and the lab was once more a battlefield.

"There is literally no reason for you to be angry, Jane," Loki said, and he'd been saying different variations of that since this morning. It was no less infuriating every time she heard it.

"No reason?" she shrieked. "You come waltzing in here at six in the morning after being gone _all day_ yesterday, and you completely re-arrange all of my stuff?!"

Jane grabbed a half built telescope that used to be stored in her closet, and dropped it on a work table that was supposed to be over by the window. Loki had taken a seat in her favorite swivel chair- the one she kept in the corner for late night easy reading. The burning fire of her rage was doused by his cool gaze. This just made her burn hotter, which in turn, gave him all the more reason to stay aloof.

"If you would cease yelling at me and let me explain," he stopped there, as if knowing that she would interrupt.

"I would love for you to explain this, Loki," she said. "Here's my problem: I never know when you're telling the truth or not. You say you're going to be gone for ten minutes, and the next time I see you, it's twenty four hours later, and you've destroyed my lab!"

"Oh, this is hardly destroyed," Loki retorts, crossing his arms. "I was going to put everything back once I'd found what I was looking for."

"Which was?"

She eyed him like he was one of her samples under a microscope. He once said that she had a stare sharp as a sword's blade, and yet today, that sword might as well have been made of rubber. It didn't matter how long or how hard her eyes lingered, his lips were sealed.

"Fine, don't tell me," she said, turning away. "Just clean this up, and don't expect me to forget about it."

She went to her writing desk in the corner. Maybe a little mind-numbing paperwork would do her some good. She was halfway there before she realized her desk had been moved about ten feet to the left. Groaning, she stalked to it, muttering all the way. Loki hadn't left her swivel chair, and his voice carried over the mountains of disorganized data sheets (it would take forever to get those back in order).

"…insane that woman is, how I managed to fall for her…"

Jane stopped, turned right around, and bounded through the gap between tables, knocking over a binder full of notes. They spilled all over the floor, the cover sheet would sport Jane's shoe print for the rest of it's days.

"What did you just say?"

He had abandoned the chair in favor of restoring her filing system to it's former, organized, glory. Within seconds, they were as if no one but her had ever touched them, but if he thought that was going to distract her, he was sorely mistaken.

"Loki?" she asked.

"Yes?" he answered.

Jane frowned, though the corners of her mouth were itching to turn up. "I heard what you just said."

"Hmmm…"

"You said you loved me."

The last of the papers fell into place, and with that method of stalling off the table, Loki had no choice but to face her.

"Did I?"

Okay, he was definitely doing this on purpose. There was no way Loki could ever be that obtuse.

"Don't tell me you're going to back down now," she said.

"How can I?" he asked lightly. "I'm not even sure if what you heard is what truly was said. Did I use the word love?"

Jane faltered. "Well, no, but I know that's what you meant."

"Truly, your surety is to be admired."

"Loki, I highly doubt that when you say you've 'fallen for me,' you mean that you've literally fallen."

"Couldn't it? Perhaps you need to spend less time jumping to conclusions and more time cleaning up in here." Loki said, smirking. "Just look at this mess!"

It was but a few seconds later that Darcy stuck her head out, wanting to know if the danger had passed and it was safe to come out. Instead of a clean lab with Loki and Jane playing nice and talking things out like mature adults, inside was the same chaos she left behind, except now, they had something new to fight about. Something about Loki falling and Jane misinterpreting things, or maybe it was Jane who fell and Loki who was confused. Hard to say, really.

Darcy bit into the apple she'd grabbed from Jane's fruit bowl, the crunching effectively silencing the both of them and making Darcy the center of attention.

"You know," she said with her mouth still full, "in a weird way, you guys are actually kind of perfect for each other."


	16. Seeing Red

**A/N: This was a request from keydav.**

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><p>A symphony of feral shouts arose from within the snowy crevasses and mountainous peaks before her. Jane Foster is on her knees, her legs having long since given out. Fingers clutch at snow that no longer bites her skin. Her hands may be numb or frostbitten. She doesn't know. She's too anxious to check.<p>

Black shadows trail in a line over the rock. Their owners are impossible creatures, the kind you find in trashy science fiction novels (not that Jane reads those). They are at least ten feet tall, all raised blue skin covered in tribal markings. Their lack of clothing puts it all on display. Their bodies are humanoid, large as they are, and tiny scraps of cloth cover their waists, sparing Jane from having to see if they are anatomically correct as well.

Their worst feature is their eyes: wild and blood red, they dance in the darkness like tiny pinpricks of light. They spin in a circle around her, the bodies attached to them create a wall that traps Jane on all sides. If she could move at all, there was no chance of escape.

In the distance, she catches sight of a radiant skyline. If she squints, she can see a dome topped palace lined with towering pillars, before the black shaded forms of her captors shift and block it out.

As if she needed anymore proof that she wasn't in Kansas anymore. When the whirring of engines had stopped and the lights had dimmed and the sound of Erik screaming her name had vanished, she had tried to convince herself that the experiment was a failure. She'd teleported herself to Antarctica or the North Pole, or some other part of the Earth she knew because she was incapable of processing anything else. Perhaps on some level, even she had believed that the work she dedicated her life to was madness. It was a dream she had chased for years, and perhaps it was better left that way, as a dream.

Her latest experiment had been sloppy, desperate in the face of losing her funding once and for all.

And it had worked.

She'd been right all along.

She was going to become a legend.

Now, she would pay the price for it.

Two of the creatures slide to the side as if walking on air, making a gap wide enough for someone her size.

A man steps forth, taller than Jane, but dwarfed by the monsters. They seem to have been expecting his arrival. Some of them bow their heads to him, others drop to their knees first. They murmur a word Jane doesn't understand.

The man stands over her. Jane chances a look at his face, though the blistering wind stings her eyes and makes them tear. Aside from his height, he looks no different from the rest of the creatures. His hair falls to his back in flowing locks. His face is angular with a prominent nose and thin, almost pink lips dipped in a frown. His torso is bare, revealing a toned stomach and leanly muscled arms. He crosses them, surveying the scene like the predator he surely is.

One of the creatures barks something. Whatever it is, Jane has a feeling it pertains to her, and that it's not polite.

The man nods his head, though Jane doubts he really cares what the creature is saying. He answers curtly, and it makes the creatures howl with laughter, until a well placed glare silences them.

The man kneels to Jane's level, and she though her mind tells her to get as far away from him as she can, her body isn't listening. His familiar size does little to appease her, for how dangerous could this man be if he has all these giants cowering in fear of him?

The man speaks to her, more of that alien language. The upward inflection at the end tells Jane that he is asking her a question, but that is all she's got.

The man seems to realize this. He asks again, and once more, Jane is at a loss. The dialect sounds different this time, he takes on a whole new accent speaking it. When Jane says nothing, the man's red eyes seem to darken.

"Do you understand what I am saying?" he asks now, in perfect English, with perfect enunciation, to the point that Jane does a double take. He smiles.

"Ah, a Midgardian," he says. "I haven't seen one of you in ages. How did you happen upon Jotunheim, little one?"

Jane can't answer, for more reasons than one. Even if she could, it would most likely be in the form of more questions. Had he really just said 'Jotunheim?' That wasn't a real place. It couldn't be. That was a place in Erik's old mythology books, not a real…

Jane hears chuckling. It might be him, and it might just be in her mind. The next thing she knows, she's in the air, mere inches from him. The red she's come to fear has softened, if only to lower her guard for whatever he plans to do with her next. It doesn't escape Jane's notice that she can't feel hands or fingers beneath her, though from their positioning, he has to be holding her.

"If you wish not to answer, worry not," he says, and Jane could almost mistake his words for soothing. "I will get what I want from you in time. Until then, sleep, little one. Sleep well."

And against Jane's better judgement, she does.


	17. The Visitor

**A/N: This was a request from starzangelus, who wanted an AU of TDW where Loki didn't 'die' and participated in the final battle with Malekith.**

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><p>His room was exactly the way he left it. All the books he'd ever read, the clothes he'd ever worn, the treasures he'd collected, they were all in their proper places with a layer of dust over them. The maids, it seemed, had ensured that their prince's room remained in it's proper state by simply ignoring it altogether. Loki could live with that. He never liked anyone touching his things anyway.<p>

The grime kicked up with his every step, dissipating into nothing when it hit the air. By the time Loki had shed his armor and pulled down the blankets on his bed, the room was spotless. It was as if he'd never been gone at all, and that made it all the crueler that Odin had seen fit to 'reward' him with it's return to him.

In his bed, with the covers to his chin and the fire crackling cheerfully in the corner, it was almost like the last year of his life had never occurred. Surely, in a few hours, he'd be awoken by a page boy to attend breakfast with Odin and Frigga. Thor would be along later; he was always the hardest to rouse unless a battle was going on. Before that, he might walk with Frigga in the gardens and talk leisurely with her of how they would spend the day. By nightfall, he'd been holed up in some dark corner of the library, studying into the wee hours morning some obscure type of magic he'd only just discovered, until someone came and found him the next day, half asleep, but well accomplished.

It would be easy to pretend he didn't long to have those days back where in not for the knot in his chest. It tightened around his heart like a snake, never to release it's prey for as long as it lived. Loki turned himself away from the fire, closing eyes that weren't tired and forcing himself to listen to the waves out the window. He let them soothe his fast beating heart, lull him into a false sense of calm…

The door opened.

That was impossible.

That was _literally_ impossible. The magic Loki had long ago infused it with kept anyone but himself or his pseudo-family from opening it without his permission, and even the latter depended on his mood.

As Loki sat up, it came to him that his long absence may have weakened the spell enough that it could be broken, even by someone without a drop of magic to speak of. That was the only possible explanation for why it was Jane Foster standing in his doorway, sporting red, puffy eyes and clammy skin. She met his incredulous gaze, stepping back and away from him, and all that was his and never her right to see.

"I-I'm sorry," she blabbered. "I d-didn't mean- I mean- I thought this was-"

She turned on a heel and sprinted down the hall without finishing.

* * *

><p>It was a month before Loki saw her again. It wasn't just because he'd doubled the strength of the locking spells and stayed in his room for days at a time. The one time Thor forced him out for breakfast, he'd heard whispers from a few nosy servants that Thor's 'mortal friend' had been gone for weeks, and they wondered if they would ever see her again.<p>

Thor himself was mum on the subject, and if he wasn't going to talk, Loki had no reason to ask. What did he care if Thor tired of the girl? Anyone could've seen that coming a mile away.

That was what made it such a surprise when, the one time he left his room of his own free will, Jane Foster was sitting in _his_ corner of the library, with one of _his_ favorite books open in her lap. She turned the page every now and then, like she was actually reading and taking in the information it offered.

"Are you attempting to achieve a deeper understanding of the inner workings of Asgard's society and history?"

She looked up. Her eyes were clear today.

"No, I'm trying to read, and you're in my light."

It was then Loki knew he meant it when he said he liked her.

* * *

><p>A week went by. He spent half of it in the library, watching her pour over books like nothing else existed. The rest of the time was spent wondering why.<p>

"Why were you in my room that night?" he asked one day.

"I got lost," she answered. "I thought it was my room."

"And why were you crying?"

"I wasn't."

"Why don't I believe that?"

"Why do you care?"

It was a good question. Loki wished he had an answer for it.

* * *

><p>One day, she took down a book on advanced magic from the top shelf. Loki snatched it away and replaced it with an introductory text. When she protested, he merely turned to page one and started reading aloud. By page two, all thoughts of complaint had fled, and she was eating out of the palm of his hand to hear more.<p>

So it went for longer than Loki knew. He spent more time out of his room, either with Jane or alone, and either way he heard them talk. People wondered what could have come over the mortal, that she'd choose the fallen prince over the golden one.

And Thor, oh, poor, _poor_ Thor, whom Jane never had a word to speak of or a kind thought to enjoy, whose actions, whatever they may have been, had damned him to losing one more person he thought his. He could only watch them from afar and regret.

That alone made it worthwhile.

The admiration for him that grew within Jane Foster every time they met- that slowly turned into worship- made it perfect.


	18. Seidr Pub

**A/N: This was an anonymous request.**

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><p>Out of all her friends, Jane is the only one who goes to the Seidr Pub for the drinks. The rest all go because they're hot for the bartender.<p>

It's not that the man behind the bar isn't gorgeous, because he is. To a truly astronomical level, he is. It's more than his looks, it's also his attitude. He has an aloof way about him that hints at a deep-seated inner darkness, the kind some girls think they can unearth and then cure. He has a refined way of speaking- his obvious British background earns him extra points, because everyone is about the Brits these days. He moves with grace and elegance, power and dominance. He owns this place, and when you come to visit, he owns you.

He is the very definition of 'tall, dark and handsome,' and Jane would be lying if she said she wasn't just a little entranced.

Mostly, though, she was here for the drinks.

It started out as mere stress- a need to relax and unwind after a long day of drawing star maps and fighting to get more funding. After the old sushi joint on 8th street went under, the Seidr Pub became that place.

It had not been quite what she was looking for. The atmosphere of the bar was anything but calm. Up tempo dance music pounded from speakers nailed to all four corners of the ceiling. It seemed out of place, since the crammed in tables and chairs and enormous bar top that came with red leather, three foot stools left no room for a dance floor. The windows and walls sported old, Norwegian style decor that didn't really fit in with the music. It gave the room a dim sort of vibe that required the strongest possible light to keep up a cheerful mood. For all of these oddities and inequalities, the Seidr Pub was a place of true mystery and elegance when one got right down to it.

Jane could never stop herself coming back.

Today's drink is luminescent. That's not a new thing. He does this about three times a week, holidays and weather permitting. They always have vastly different flavors and textures. The last time he made a drink like this, it had been tangy- cool, but not watery. Thick, but not heavy.

This drink had a ring of foam around the top. Something carbonated, perhaps?

"It's sweet," Jane says. She takes another sip, smaller than the last, and he waits patiently for her to finish. "I think… cherry."

He nods. "Good guess."

That means she's wrong.

"It could also be grape."

"Yes, it could."

Still wrong.

"It would be easier if you'd just tell me, or make up a menu and put it on there."

_'Like a normal person.'_

He smiles at her, the way he only ever does when he wants to make her knees weak or make her think he's reading her mind. Tonight, it's probably both.

"That would spoil the fun, wouldn't it?"

He takes the mostly full tankard from her, never stopping to consider that she might want more. He drops it in the sink and goes to his wall of bottles. The cacophony of colors gave Jane a headache the first few times. Now, they just fill her with anticipation, with a need to understand their secrets. Only the stars had ever inspired this in her before. This was what kept her coming back, more than the enigma of the owner ever would.

…well, okay, maybe it was about equal.

_About_ equal, not _equal_ equal.

He pours three liquids that don't look like they belong together into a bowl. The first two spit and swirl when they merge, but the third calms them. Mixed together, their solid colors mesh into tye-dye. Loki pours some kind of sand into the mixture, stirring it until the tye-dye inexplicably changes to green. A golden tint at the rim completes the drink, and he hands it back to her with a lemon wedge on the glass. That is the only compromise he will ever make with her regarding the mixing process. She likes to have a lemon wedge with everything, so she can have the extra kick if she needs it. He lets her do it because she never does.

"This is something special," he says. "For my favorite customer."

Jane narrows her eyes, first and the drink, then at him. "I bet you say that to everyone."

His smile fades. The silence lasts so long, Jane starts to think she's finally breached his tough exterior and offended him. It could be just another game of his. He's played them before. In fact, 90 percent of their interactions so far have been him messing with her for his own amusement. It may not seem like it this time, but he's such a good actor that Jane can only ever volley fruitlessly between believing she's done something wrong and being pissed at him for screwing with her head like this.

He leans in, so fast, Jane can't react. She gets a whiff of his cologne. He smells amazing. He's close enough to brush her lips, but instead, he goes for her ear.

"You are my favorite," he whispers. "Don't tell anyone."

He gets up and walks away to fill someone else's order, like it's absolutely nothing to him that Jane is sweating and shaking and will be having some very intense dreams tonight that are entirely his fault.

She takes a sip of the drink anyway. It also tastes sweet.

She guesses blueberries.

She guesses wrong.


	19. Hands

**A/N: This was a request from isaalacrymosaa.**

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><p>Smoke and ash is all Jane can see and all she can smell. It cuts off her breathing, leaves her gasping, desperate for the barest hint of clean air. She feels like she could claw her way up the side of a building until the skin peeled off her bones, if it would just get her out of this smog.<p>

Something explodes, and Jane feels it rather than hears it. She's been deafened by the blasts. She can't even hear Darcy's agonized screams anymore. Come to think about it, she hasn't seen Darcy for a while now, and isn't that her wrist sticking out of that rubble over there?

Jane stares at it in a trance, until the ground is uprooted under her feet, and she's flying. It doesn't affect her like it should. She should be terrified of where and when she will land, but all she can think is 'finally, fresh air.' It lasts a precious few seconds, and then she meets both the ground and the oppressive heat that cooks her skin.

Where is Thor now?

When was it that he left her in the care of his trusted friends, promising that she would be safe, and that he would return for her when it was over?

She should have known better than to believe in his promises. And Fandral and Volstagg should have known better than to engage all fifty of those flaming monsters at once. They said it themselves as they rested their charred bodies in the grass in the last few moments of life they had.

Jane feels something in the back of her throat. She hacks it up, and it's blood.

She touches her chest. She can't press down because it hurts too much, but it feels like there's some kind of liquid in there. Jane lays on her side. the only spot that doesn't hurt. Blood leaks out of more cuts than she can count, and she swallows back enough bile that she probably has more of that in her body than blood at this point.

That she's still alive at all is the greatest miracle of all. Why good luck had to come so late in the game, she doesn't know.

She used to think meeting Thor was the miracle. Now she knows it was a death sentence.

And it's not his fault, she'd never blame him for this. He might blame himself for not knowing, for not seeing it coming, for letting so many people in so many realms die, but in the end, there was nothing he could have done.

Because he's not God.

He's not even really _a_ god.

For him, that might be the greatest tragedy of all.

Jane watches the puddle of her blood spread into a circle eight inches in diameter. Calculating it is all the distraction she can provide herself from the pain, which is slowly creeping into other parts of her body. She's heard that when one dies, they first become numb. She hopes she gets to that stage soon. She's never been good with pain.

When the numbness comes, it's accompanied by warmth, and an end to the pain that seems too quick and too smooth for the hand of death. The circle of blood seems less severe when her eyes are clear. It's half the size she thought it was.

It's getting smaller.

The blood is _returning to her body._

Why does she feel someone touching her stomach?

Jane looks up into the eyes of a ghost. He looks healthier than anyone on this battlefield has a right to. There isn't a scratch on him as he works his magic on her body, running long fingers over her chest and stomach to heal all the cuts and burns, and pulls her back from oblivion. Jane takes a breath that doesn't hurt. She sucks in air that's still dirty, but that she suddenly can't get enough of.

She tries to stand, but he doesn't let her.

"Not yet," he says softly, yet she can still hear him even as Big Ben comes crashing down behind them. "You are still weak."

Jane stares into his eyes. "I thought you were dead."

And he smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He looks like someone who hasn't really smiled in a long time.

"I _am_ dead," he says.

Another blast of smoke and fire, and Jane Foster knows no more.

She is awoken hours later by Thor and Sif. The battle is over, and they are all that's left.

While they mourn their fallen comrades, and make plans for how they will rebuild the realms, Jane sits by the window, uneaten dinner on a tray in her lap.

She'd asked Thor earlier if she'd been alone when they found her.

He said yes.

He said it was a miracle that she was uninjured when they found her, over a mile away from where Jane knows she had been.

She didn't tell him that, and she doesn't ask if he'd seen anyone else fighting with them. Someone in black and green who shouldn't have been there at all.

Instead, she smoothes her shirt over the untouched skin of her stomach, and she thinks about his hands.


	20. The Talk of the Town

**A/N: This was written as a gift for audreyii-fic.**

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><p>No one thinks it's going to work out. No one at all.<p>

Erik is convinced that Loki will break her heart, if not her neck, because who could ever trust a man with a history of homicidal tendencies who also happens to be a demi-god?

_(Whether or not Jane thinks that an accurate descriptor for the Aesir is beside the point.)_

Darcy is torn between worry and envy. If she didn't have her own cute, British accent having boyfriend to keep her busy- and the above mentioned homicidal thing wasn't an issue- she would've been all over Loki before Jane had a chance to learn his name. Seriously, he is a fine piece of ass.

_(But Darcy is more mature than she looks, and while she hides behind a cheeky grin and a lewd remark to make Jane squirm, she prays that her best friend will survive to the end of it.)_

Sif is conflicted, to say the least. Jane Foster had had in the palm of her hands everything Sif dreamed of having since she was a child. Thor had given her, a mere mortal, his heart, and what does she do? She throws it right back at him and embraces the fallen prince instead, who just a year before would've sooner had her dead at his feet than sharing his bed. It's a mind-boggling turn of events.

_(And as happy as Sif is that she still has a chance, she takes one look at Thor's broken, devastated face and knows she will never ever forgive Jane Foster.)_

The Warrior's Three are confused. It's never been uncommon for woman to prefer the second prince to the first (not that it's ever been _common_), but for a woman who had earned Thor's favor to leave him for Loki was unheard of. They may be biased, but they can't imagine anyone who has had a night with Thor would find Loki superior. It simply can't be because... he's _Thor! _

As courtly scandals have never been of great interest to them, for the most part, they stay out of it.

_(That doesn't stop them from going quiet whenever the couple passes by, and trying not to stare after them with a million questions in their eyes.)_

Odin is furious. More than furious. Who does that weak little mortal think she is? It was bad enough when Thor tried to bring her before the court as his lady. Now she turns to Loki, as if settling for a prince who won't receive the throne will appease his ire and win his approval. If Loki knows what's good for him, he will end this entire farce now and not try to speak on Jane Foster's behalf like Thor had.

_(But Loki has never known what's good for him, and Odin suspects (fears) that after everything that's happened, he never will.)_

Frigga is tentative; she watches for now. The happiness of her sons has been her first priority since Thor first came screaming from her womb, and Loki was first placed in her arms. In her heart, she knows she would let Asgard burn for her boys if it came to it. And she likes Jane Foster. Really, she does, but she is not blind to the fleeting life of Midgardian. There are ways around that it's true, but who is to say the human mind- with all it's frailties and limitations- is suited for the millennia?

_(It's a silly excuse when she thinks about it, so perhaps it's just the thought of any woman taking her dearest son away that torments her.)_

Thor is… difficult to put into words. Whatever he feels, it goes beyond the past he shared with Jane, and the future he had planned that is now dashed against the rocks. It's more to do with what he knows of Loki. He's seen how Loki is with lovers, and much as Thor loves his brother and hates to speak against him, he has never been what one would call warm and loving. He is possessive, he is demanding, he is brutally honest. There has never been a woman who has stayed longer than a decade. The longest lasting would go down in the books as Loki's wife, and a paragon of fidelity. All things considered, that is not so inaccurate, but Thor still loathes to think what the storytellers of old would say if they knew the true story.

Loki has said that satisfaction is not in his nature, but Thor wonders if it's more than Loki won't let himself be satisfied. Somehow, someway, he will destroy every bit of joy in his life. Every scrap of love and affection he is offered, he will spit upon and crush under his boot, because in some ingrained part of Loki's mind, he is convinced that he will lose it all anyway. That is just how he is, and Thor hopes he is not insulting Jane Foster when he says that no one, not even someone as kind and brilliant as her, will ever change him.

But for all the fear and the uncertainty that he carries deep within, Thor keeps his mouth shut, and releases his agony in the only other way he knows. Asgard sees more flooding and thunderstorms that month than ever before. He takes the label of 'friend' from Jane Foster in stride, and thinks he can live with that.

_(He knows that 'sister' will be the death of him.)_

As for Jane, she feels all of their words and their feelings acutely, even if most are never expressed. Keeping them bottled up has strengthened them, enough to make her throat close up and her eyes burn. It doesn't matter how many times Loki kisses her brow and tells her to forget them. It doesn't matter how sure she is that her heart has led her true, that her mind is free to love him. Even so, she forces herself to focus on the good and shut out the bad. She has gained so much from her time with Loki. He is a changed man somehow, not in every way, but in the most important way. The monster he once was is no more. Jane trusts the man he is now. It's taken her more time and more tears than she'd care to admit to get to this point but now that she's here, she has no regrets, and no plans to leave.

There is still one more hurdle to jump, and it's the highest one she will ever face. The choice she must make could mean the difference between fifty years and five thousand years; between a lifetime of fear that the love and the light in her eyes will fade with time, or a life that could end in the blink of an eye, spent wondering what could have been until Death's cold hand extended to her. There is no other way for her now but these two.

_(She shares a cool drink with Loki on a warm summer's night, and wonders how she could ever make such a choice.)_

With the moon at their back, Loki holds his Jane close, and smiles to himself when she compliments the cider he's made. She wonders where he got such delicious apples from.

_(He wonders when he will tell her that the choice has been made.)_


	21. BossIntern

**A/N: So this was for a Short AU meme, and requested by amalgamads.**

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><p>Jane's been tinkering with the same telescope lens for forty five minutes. She just can't get it to focus properly. Meanwhile, her new intern has been doing anything and everything except for what she asked him to do in the first place, which was to get her some coffee.<p>

"Your papers have all been organized," he says from across the room. "Also, I was able to repair the weather machine in the RV and beat out the dent in the fender, just for you."

He winks, and Jane looks away.

"Great. That's really great, Luke." Jane fights to keep her eyes open after a good twenty hours without sleep. "Now how about that coffee I asked for _three hours ago?_"

She could reach over the table and strangle him now, the way she's feeling. He just smiles and bows- literally _bows_ to her.

"Of course, my lady. It gives me great pleasure to cater to your every whim."

If hadn't been laced with sarcasm, Jane might be creeped out. What's worse is Luke's intense gaze on her right before he goes inside to get her coffee, that makes Jane feel warm for a much different reason than the ninety degree temperature outside.

There really is nothing worse than a hot guy who knows how hot he is and uses it to his advantage.

Jane _knew_ she should have gone with that political science student.


	22. Taboo

**A/N: Short AU meme: requested by keydav.**

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><p>Meeting up is hard when they live on different worlds. Lucky for them, Loki was a rogue traveler before he was a king. He knows all the passageways into Asgard and beyond. He knows how to disguise himself as one of the locals, so that no one thinks it odd that a man in strange clothes is walking about Asgard's market. He looks nothing like a Jotunn, let alone their king.<p>

Jane is just outside the palace when he finds her. Her face and her dress are filthy, as is the hefty bag of soiled linens she's hauling over her shoulder. She's still beautiful to him, though. She's always been beautiful to him.

It's such an odd thing to think about, that someone as powerful as he could fall for a woman who is not only a simple servant, but not even born of Asgard at all. That her life and death will be but a blink of an eye for him is not unknown, but not something he wishes to consider today, when he's finally found the time to see her.

A quick spell lightens the load on her petite body, and when she turns around, he smiles at her. He opens his arms wide as she drops the bag and runs to meet him.


	23. Lab Partners

**A/N: Short AU meme: requested by heir-1564**

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><p>If half of Thor's chemistry grade didn't hinge on this assignment, he might not have agreed to partner up with his brother and his brother's new friend. The friend is just fine, and Thor would be lying if he said there was nothing appealing about her bright eyed enthusiasm for all things science. It's more that the time Loki doesn't dedicate to making not so subtle jabs at Thor's somewhat lacking prowess as a chemist (as if Loki's some kind of grand genius, which he isn't) is spent making sure Thor goes absolutely nowhere near Ms. Foster without Loki there to watch them. It's such an obvious thing, that Thor thinks Loki might as well take Jane in his arms and hide her from the world, screaming 'mine!' until his voice goes hoarse.<p>

Whether or not Jane sees it herself is another story entirely, but Thor can't help but notice the way she smiles and rolls her eyes when Loki gets extra protective, or how she keeps her hand rather precariously placed on Loki's arm when they go over the math together. As the days go by, Thor starts to wish that could be him.


	24. Partners in Crime

**A/N: Short AU meme: requested by audreyii-fic.**

**Borrowed from Castle for this one.**

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><p>Loki runs down the darkened hallway. Gunshots fly overhead and policemen are shouting for backup. He smirks as another bullet smashes the mirror he's about to pass. Only two of them, and the five or six lawmen who have been sent to arrest them are already outmatched. Bringing in more men now is just going to result in more lives lost, none of which will be theirs.<p>

He finds the back door and bursts into the light. It blinds him at first, but when his eyes adjust, he's in an alleyway, and Jane is there, her gun trained on him.

"Don't move!"

Loki moves. He draws his gun and aims it at her. She falters, but holds steady, and fires exactly when he does.

The cop sneaking up behind her goes down with a bullet in his arm, while the one behind Loki, whom he's only just noticed, takes one to the side. Neither wound is fatal, and amid the cops' cursing and screaming for someone to come and arrest the suspects, Loki and Jane share a smile.

There's no time for a proper reunion. With the swishing of a helicopter's blades behind them, and a magnified voice informing them that they're surrounded, Loki and Jane join hands and disappear into the shadows, never to be found.


	25. Co-Stars

**A/N: Short AU meme: requested by anonymous**

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><p>She slaps him.<p>

"That was for New York!"

He grins.

"I like her."

"CUT!"

Tension diffuses with one shouted word. Thor lets out a breath and Sif walks off set, calling for someone to refill her coffee and to sharpen her sword. She's become a bit of a prima donna since the first movie came out, sad to say.

"Guys, come on. How many times do we have to do this scene?"

The director looks ready to pull his hair out, and Jane feels for him. Loki does not.

"If you ask me, I thought that was the best take we've done so far," he says.

"Oh yeah, it's _great_," the director says through grit teeth, his face turning red. "Great if you were Thor. You guys have got to find a way to get the proper mood across before we end up behind schedule. This scene is supposed to indicate hostility and a mutual disdain for each other. It is _not_ supposed to look like you're going to start making out at any second. Now get it right!"

The director stomps off, and Loki smirks, pulling Jane to him.

"If he's trying to keep us from having a snog, he's a little late in the game, don't you think, dearest?"

Jane rolls her eyes.

"Just don't say things like that when he's around. We don't want to kill the poor guy."

"Speak for yourself."


	26. Masquerade

**A/N: Short AU meme (although from now on, they get a lot longer): requested by bluepixystyx.**

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><p>Jane really doesn't mind being invited to a masquerade ball. She just wishes Darcy had taken the night off and not found the invitation that Jane had stupidly left on her desk while she was in the bathroom, trying to repair the damage from the accident. She might also wish that her dearest friend and intern would have realized that Jane probably wouldn't want to go out partying after so royally screwing up her face like she had.<p>

But even as she's walking along the sidelines of the party, in the biggest and most face covering mask the store had to offer, she's glad, at least, that she has an excuse to shy away from colleagues and old friends who might've insisted she spend the night in her company. No one recognizes her in this thing.

She gets to know the refreshment table (they have delicious crab dip), the man working behind it (he needs a breath mint), and the other man in the plain black 'Phantom of the Opera' mask who sips wine coolers and rejects every woman who asks him for a dance (fourteen so far).

"If I could say something negative about a masque, it's how truly obnoxious some of the costumes are."

His eyes might be on her, or they could be on another guest. Hard to tell.

"Just look at that fellow on the dance floor. He looks like some unholy crossbreed between a lion and a vat of eggs."

The man he's pointing to is actually very handsome, and were he not already with a woman on the dance floor, and were Jane not feeling so self-conscious right now, she might've gone over and asked him for a dance. Let this guy here fume and be miserable by himself.

"Do you know him?" she asks.

The man smiles. The top half of his face is covered, but his eyes carry a spark of mischief.

"But that's the true beauty of a masque, isn't it?" He leans in. "When I have this on, I can be whomever or whatever I want, and it doesn't matter who I really am or who I may know. I am all but invisible."

Jane blinks. "So you're saying you know him."

He hums and picks up another wine cooler. A slightly drunk woman in a tight red bodice that makes her look bustier than she actually is stumbles over. She drapes herself over the man, whispering in his ear with spittle on the side of her mouth. The man doesn't even verbalize his rejection this time, just turns away and slips his lean body out of the circle of her arms, leaving her to pout and then go find someone else to bother. Number fifteen.

"I would be inclined to ask you for a dance," the man says, and even though the only other person nearby is a balding middle aged man mixing drinks, Jane still needs a moment to realize he's talking to her.

"Me?"

He grins.

"First, you must remove that mask. I know it defeats the purpose of a masque, but that thing is dreadfully ugly and I won't be seen with someone who wears it."

He seems to have missed the part where he says something nice or complementary that makes Jane want to dance with him. She'd still rather walk away and go ask that blonde guy for a dance. She takes a wild guess that they're either family, business partners, or both, and that rejecting him in favor of the blonde man will really get his goat.

_'Try getting his name before you make him jealous,'_ says the voice of reason that so far has been ignored.

"I'm not much of a dancer," Jane says.

"Neither am I."

"…I always step on people's feet."

"I have strong feet."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Doesn't it?"

He seems intent on getting his way (he couldn't possibly have blown off all those woman for her, could he?), so in the end it makes the most sense to go with the standard excuse.

"I just need to freshen up. I'll be right back."

She all but runs away, and probably would've just left except she really does need the bathroom now that she thinks about it. She finishes fast and, after washing her hands, adjusts the mask that's been slipping off her face to expose her shame.

_'How did I ever make a mistake like this?'_ she bemoans her fate for the hundredth time today. _ 'It's going to take forever to grow back.'_

She steps into the powder room as she works with the mask. It's being very stubborn and refusing to stay in place. Though this area connects the men's room to the ladies' room, the only person around is a man reading a newspaper, his face hidden by more than just a mask. Jane feels safe enough to pluck the mask off and fix the knot, bowing her head to see her work more clearly. She finishes and glances back up in the mirror.

She drops the mask.

_He's standing right behind her._

"I do still want that dance." He wears an evil rin as he tosses the paper aside. "Whether or not both your eyebrows are in place is of no consequence."


	27. Co-Stars 2

**A/N: Short AU meme: requested by startraveller776.**

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><p>She feels his body cover hers, and she instantly knows that Loki is going to get in trouble with the director. Again.<p>

She holds off shaking her head or any other sort of non-verbal expression of irritation, because the perceptive ass always knows literally everything she's thinking anyway.

How? It's hard to say.

Maybe the whole 'secret relationship' thing has something to do with it.

Maybe it's because she's not as good of an actress as she should be.

Either way, it doesn't shock her at all when the director calls for a premature end to the scene right as Thor and Malekith's big fight scene was about to start.

"Did I do something wrong?" Thor asks, because the poor guy is still so humble after three movies, that he always thinks he's the one screwing things up.

"No, no, you were great, Thor," and this director sure butters him up more than the last one did. "It's that idiot brother of yours! Dammit, Loki. I told you we were using a stunt double for this scene!"

Loki lifts himself off Jane, though he's sure to pick her up and keep an arm firm around her waist.

"Are my ears deceiving me, or are you asking me to leave Jane's protection in the hands of some novice who likely knows not even how to hold a knife properly? Who knows what sort of dangers would befall dear Jane if I were to let that happen."

"Danger- _what danger?_ This is a _movie_ for Christ's sake!"

The director dissolves into enraged gibberish for a few minutes.

"Can we please just do one take the way_ I_ want to do it? Just one?" his 'polite' approach probably would've been better were it not for his rather creepy fake grin. "I don't understand why you even care so much to begin with. You and Jane don't have a relationship."

"That's what you think," Loki mutters.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

The director narrows his eyes suspiciously, only for an assistant director to come running over with a bunched up piece of paper in hand. The director takes it, skims the contents, and if he looked ready to blow a fuse before, Jane hadn't seen anything yet.

"Loki," the director begins to shake. "Why have all your stunt doubles suddenly quit and moved to India?"

Loki puts on a look of pure innocence (as much as he can manage) and shrugs his shoulders.

"I know not. Perhaps India is nice this time of year."

"We hired _seven_ doubles for you!"

"_Very_ nice."

It seems to Jane that they're not going to get through this movie shoot without either the director killing Loki or Loki driving the director to put a gun in his mouth.

Oh well, at least things will never get boring.


	28. Meeting Online

**A/N: Short AU meme: requested by anonymous.**

**Also, can anyone guess what movie Jane is watching in this story?**

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><p><em>'Why don't more people talk about this movie?'<em>

It's a simple, lazy thing Jane types up on her blog in the middle of her bi-monthly day off Her channel surfing has finally borne fruit in the form of a favorite 1980s comedy that no one else seems to know about. That's a damn shame, because this is one of Jane's favorite movies, and she caught it right at the beginning too, right at Danny DeVito's opening scene with his mistress.

Nobody follows her blog anyway, except for Darcy and a few science geeks who like her astrophysics posts. She doesn't even bother to tag what movie she's talking about. Not like anyone is going to care.

A little notification pops up a minute later. Darcy reblogged her new post. Curious, Jane clicks on Darcy's blog to see if she said anything. Her movie is about at the scene with the main couple (Jane never remembers the names of the actors) discussing their ill-conceived kidnapping plot. Darcy has only written in the tags.

_'omg i know!'_

Jane's eyebrows shoot up.

_'i totally love Hamlet 2!'_

Annnnd there it is.

_'so underrated'_

Right.

She probably should've just tagged it.

Jane shuts her laptop down to finish her movie. Unfortunately, this channel has commercials, and one comes on right before her favorite part where they pretend to torture Bette Midler. On a whim, she goes back to her laptop. Maybe Darcy found one of her many friends to discuss movies she likes with.

To her surprise, her post does have a few more notes. Two people Jane doesn't know have liked it, most likely from Darcy's blog. One other person has reblogged with comments. Jane clicks it mindlessly, without checking the url first to see if this is someone she's familiar with. She only sees that he's reblogged it from Darcy and not from her.

Probably just another one of her friends.

_'I doubt Jane is talking about that one, Darcy. It doesn't seem the type for her.'_

Or maybe not.

Jane looks at the url. The name 'letmeruleyou' is either a really obvious and uncreative Labyrinth reference or just plain pretentious, but it does ring a bell for Jane. A quick perusal of her fifty something followers confirms that he or she is one of them. Going to their page tells her that it's run by a guy named Loki, but nothing else (Jane thanks the lord that he doesn't identify as 'overlordgender'). He doesn't even have any pictures, but then again, neither does she, so who is she to talk?

The movie is back on, but now Jane feels like playing around a bit. An impromptu live-blog of the final twenty minutes commences.

_'Bill Pullman is definitely stupid in this.'_ she writes.

Again, she doesn't tag, except to add _'I would shoot him'._

Her new friend likes her post, but that's it.

She proceeds to talk a little more about the movie, up to the part where the main characters run happily off into the sunset on the beach. Then she hums along to the Billy Joel song that plays over the credits and prepares to shut down for the night and get some sleep.

She stops at the last second to follow her new friend's blog, and then checks her email once more before going back to her blog page to log out for the night.

She has a new message in her ask. She blinks her eyes, but doesn't think much of it. She'll get an ask now and then from some high school student who needs help with homework or a new person she's followed thanking her for it.

She fully expects the latter, but wouldn't balk at the former either (she'd just save it for tomorrow). What she does find, she has to read twice to comprehend.

_'If you want to follow me, you should know that I'm greedy forever and ever.'_

It's from letmeruleyou, but it's such an odd thing to say that Jane wonders if he meant it for someone else and will be sending a follow up message to apologize for the mistake any second.

Music filters through her TV speakers now. Familiar music. Music she only just heard about two hours ago.

It hadn't occurred to her that the movie would be a back to back showing, but the theme song is playing again over the animated credits, and now Jane understand perfectly.

Snickering to herself, she types up a response:

_'That's fine. I'm greedy and ever so clever.'_

She hits post, and though her eyes are getting heavy, she waits around to see if he has anything else to say (if he tries to start one of those song lyric comment chains, she's going to be here all night).

_'I hope so,'_ is his answer.

Now there's something she didn't expect. It's also something that gives her a very slight feeling of foreboding, but that might just be something she ate.

She's by now too tired to even walk across the hall to her bed, so she gives his answer a like and logs off. Maybe tomorrow she'll message him again.

Jane pulls her feet off the floor- the couch is more comfy than her bed anyway- and listens to Bette Midler threaten her kidnappers that her husband will 'explode' when he finds out about this. She's asleep before they cut to Danny DeVito popping open the wine bottle to celebrate his wife's demise.


	29. Editor

**A/N: Short AU meme: requested by both gabbiki anonymous.**

**The movie in the last chapter was Ruthless People. Kudos to everyone who got it.**

**EDIT: Looks like I screwed up today. I forgot to switch out the last story for the new one before posting. Sincerest apologies and thank you to MyLeftFootIsNotToBeTrusted for pointing out the error.**

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><p><em>It's midnight on a quiet work night. Jane has had little to accomplish today. Most of her regular workload had gone to the new batch of interns that had just come in. It left Jane with little to do besides make phone calls all day and go over some memos from the editor-in-chief. Most of them reminded her of what a good job she was doing. It felt nice to be appreciated, but Jane still felt the sting of having so many new people hired to perform the jobs she had once put her blood, sweat, and tears into. Almost as if to say all her hard work had meant nothing in the long run, and she was and always had been replaceable.<em>

_Maybe she was being dramatic. She had a good job and good standing in her publishing company. The odds of her being let go for some young upstart was slim to none. She wasn't even thirty five yet. _

_Still, a bitterness was growing within her. Less and less her colleagues seemed to look at her as someone to admire. More and more she was reduced to 'coffee girl' at monthly assessment meetings. Yesterday, someone she had worked with for three years actually forgot her name and called her June. _

_Maybe it was time for Jane to branch out on her own. That had been her dream since the moment she set foot in the competitive world of professional publishing. _

_Jane shuts off her computer. All her work is finished for the week, and she has a day off filled with bubble baths and star gazing to look forward to; not that living in the city leaves much room for the latter. _

_The sound of steps and movement outside don't phase her much. The custodian always starts around this time. The door being opened is new. He wasn't supposed to start cleaning the main offices for another hour at least. Jane freezes, her coat half on her arm and her bag with her pepper spray on the floor, too far away for her to grab before a black shadow slides into her office._

_Jane's fear, slowly creeping along the from the pit of her gut to the tips of her toes, diminishes when her visitor approaches, and a familiar face enters the dim lamplight._

_"Loki?"_

_The wayward brother of Jane's old flame steps further into the room, and as he gets close, Jane can see the predatory gleam in his eye and the smile on his face._

_"Hello, Jane."_

_His voice is like silk. It hypnotizes Jane. She falls back in her chair and he presses his firm body into hers, his lips moving to the side of her lips and her jaw, where he traces tiny kisses that carry within them the promise of something greater, something more than what she is and what she's ever known as a woman. _

_His kisses go lower, down the line of her neck to the top of her collarbone. His hands reach around her waist and run up and under her shirt. His coolness provided great contrast to her heated skin, and make her arousal skyrocket. Jane moaned against his touch, his name on her sinful lips._

_"Oh Loki, I've always dreamed of this."_

_He leans up to capture her lips with his, enveloping her in his kiss and his power. She is weak in his arms, pliable. She is consumed by the all-consuming fire that is Loki, and when he reaches into the line of her jeans, his fingers deftly creeping towards the center of her pleasure-_

Jane stops reading. The open word document will most likely go on to describe in loving, flowery detail all the dirty deeds of this bizarro world Loki and Jane getting it on after hours in an office building, all questions of logic cast aside (Why is this Jane a publisher? Why is she so eager to sleep with her ex-boyfriend's brother no questions asked? Why would Loki even _want_ to sleep with her?) in favor of titillation that isn't very titillating.

The writer's page is open on another tab. Jane hovers the cursor over the private message link and clicks. Whoever this person is, they had all but begged her to proofread their new fanfic before they posted it. After reading that, Jane can't for the life of her understand why.

_'Hi there, SnakeEyes101,'_ she write in the subject line._ 'I took a look at your story like you asked. I think it's really-'_ she pauses, then backspaces the whole line and starts again. _ 'I think you're a good writer, I'm just not sure about the storyline you have going here. It starts off fairly interesting, but when it segues into erotica, that's when things start to get a bit weird. I hope this doesn't sound rude, but I'm a little uncomfortable with the whole 'me having sex with Loki' thing. I shouldn't have to tell you how impossible that would be, and I'm wondering if this story wouldn't be better served with a different female lead, or if the sex scene was cut entirely. Please let me know your thoughts. I am excited to continue working with you. You have a lot of talent. Jane.'_

Jane checks it once for grammar and then sends it.

The message is received by SnakeEyes101, who opens it right away and reads it's contents with an awful, leering grin spreading over his face, his green eyes sparkling.

"Oh my dear Jane," he says. "Soon you'll find that nothing is impossible."


	30. Wedding

**A/N: Short AU meme: requested by anonymous.**

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><p>Jane has been sitting at the bar for approximately fourteen minutes and thirty six seconds. She knows, because her new phone has a nifty little timer function, and watching the numbers go up is a hell of a lot better than watching Thor and Sif on the dance floor.<p>

She still sees them out the corner of her eye if she turns her head the wrong way. Sif is beautiful in her white dress of course, and Thor is as handsome as he's ever been in that form-fitting tux. And Jane is stuck in some bargain bin cocktail dress because all her monthly money had gone towards food and research materials, looking like a sack of potatoes compared to the bride's ethereal loveliness. That sure explains why Sif is the one Thor picked.

But she's not bitter. No, of course she isn't.

She has no reason to be bitter. Her own stupid mouth is what has been her undoing this time, because she couldn't bring herself to open it up when she had the chance and let Thor know how she really felt. Maybe it would have done no good. Maybe she would've ended up exactly where she is right now, or maybe she would've just not had to go to the wedding at all. At the very least, she would've had peace of mind, and now she can't even have that. She's pretty sure that confessing her feelings to Thor now, even if only as a way to get it off her shoulders, would get her a one way ticket to the ICU once Sif was through with her.

So, she stays at the bar and nurses a drink. She's never been one for alcohol, but she's hoping the misery will drive her to trying it. Darcy and her old college friends always seemed to have fun getting drunk (unbearable mornings after notwithstanding) so there must be something she's missing out on.

As she's considering this, the seat next to her is quite suddenly occupied. Jane has yet to look up, but whoever they are, their body covers the dancing bride and groom from her sight, and Jane is eternally grateful.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but a wedding is supposed to be a joyous occasion. So why do you appear… less than?"

Jane looks up at the man. His shoulder length black hair, vibrant green eyes, and distinct 'I am better than you' air are all easy to identify, even if she's never had a real conversation with Thor's brother. He's not exactly giving her a reason to start one now.

"Of course I'm happy," she says dully, not even caring at this point. "I'm so happy that I had to come over here and take a break from being so happy. Being happy for Thor and for Sif is exhausting."

He chuckles. "You needn't tell me twice. I have been listening to that fool prattle on and on about Sif's many values and virtues for so long that it's as if he's been trying to convince _me_to marry her. I was almost tempted to try seducing her just to bring him down a few notches."

"Yeah, that would sure show him," says Jane, who is rather amazed that coercing his soon-to-be sister in law into sex just because his brother was annoying him was somehow a rational thought in Loki's head. This must be what Darcy meant when she said he was mentally disturbed and possibly a psychopath.

"I do believe he mentioned you once or twice."

Jane's ears perk up.

"He did?"

"Yes, and in the most interesting capacity," Loki accepts a martini from the bartender and hands her a tip. "One day, while out being fitted for our tuxedos, he suddenly got to talking about his sweet little scientist friend and how much he thought I should meet her."

Jane deflates and slumps back over the bar top. What had she'd expected, really?

"You're telling me Thor wants to get the two of us together?"

Loki shrugs. "I think it's more that he felt pity for us, both going to a wedding alone while everyone else we know has a partner. Perhaps he wanted us to not be lonely."

Jane gives an empty, humorless laugh.

"Well that has to be the stupidest idea Thor has ever come up with."

"Indeed."

Jane picks up her mostly full glass of champagne and raises it high.

"To Thor and Sif," she says in monotone.

Loki lifts his glass to meet hers, smirking.

"To many happy years for the both of them."

Jane laughs again, for real this time, at his dripping sarcasm. That was truly an excellent delivery. Maybe they could become friends after all.

Their glasses clink together and they drink.


	31. Morning People

**A/N: Based on a series of tags I made on a tumblr post here: iamartemisday. tumblr post/97605040282/duskygrayknights-but-morning-person-not**

**Someone wanted a story based on them, so here it is.**

* * *

><p>Sunlight beams in Jane's eyes, disrupting a rather lovely dream where she has won the Nobel Prize, and then holds an after party on the beach of some remote island where all the stars in the universe aline. It occurs to Jane that she doesn't remember if Loki had been in the dream himself. Probably for the best if he wasn't. She gets enough of him during the day, starting with the moment she wakes up.<p>

"Rise and shine!"

The scent of fresh bacon and eggs hits her nostrils, but doesn't make her want to kill her annoying god lover any less.

"Leave me alooooooone." Jane grabs a pillow and smushes it over her face.

"Ah, ah, ah!" He might as well be cackling at her suffering. "What kind of lover and future spouse would I be if I allowed my beautiful lady to sleep in on so lovely a day as this?"

Reluctantly, Jane opens one eye and lets it stick out under the pillow. The sky outside is overcast. That sun she's seeing is clearly magical in nature.

"Now, eat your breakfast and come downstairs. We've got a lot to do today!"

She sees Loki's retreating form, misses the shit-eating grin she just _knows_ is on his face, and fails to hit him with the pillow that she throws across the room after him.

"I'm going to kill you, Loki!" she shouts after him. "Somehow, someway, _I will end you._"

"I love you too, darling!"

He closes the door behind him and walks straight into the guest room before he collapses. Though he doesn't need as much sleep as a human, when he needs it, he _really_ needs it.

He'll have to let Jane know about that sometime, once the fun of getting her up in the morning like a chipper woodsprite wears off. That would require Jane becoming harder to provoke, and not quite as adorable when she's angry with him. The odds of that ever happening are decidedly low.

All the more fun for him then.


	32. High School Reunion

**A/N: Short AU meme: requested by clariss2838 and anonymous.**

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><p>Darcy kicked open the door to the lab and walked inside with an armload of old parts and supplies. It was destined for the even larger pile of old parts and supplies Jane was collecting at the back of her lab. One of the few benefits of being a fringe scientist with minimal funding was that you learned how to use and reuse pretty much everything.<p>

"You know, Jane," Darcy said as she dragged the latest batch of old pipes and car parts into the corner, "I love you, and I love working with you, but I'd personally rather not get a herniated disk before I turn twenty five, so could we maybe take a break- what are you doing?"

Jane looked up from her desk, closing the red leather book and pushing it aside.

"I'm just getting some extra work done," she said. "Did you get all the stuff from outside."

"I just have one more trip, thank God. Next time, do me a favor and invest in a u-haul." Darcy rubbed circles into the small of her back to ease the pain. "And I know you weren't working just now. If you were, you'd be fixing that energy reading module or whatever it's called like you were doing when I left five minutes ago."

Instead of answering her, Jane grabbed the book and went back to her reading. Darcy, never one to be ignored, dropped everything where she stood and came over. Jane would make her pick up every single piece by hand later, but for now, she scooted over to make from for her unruly intern. She might as well. Darcy would just force her way in anyway.

"What are you looking at?"

Darcy poked her head over Jane's shoulders, eyes scanning the rows of photographs. She pointed at one in the far left corner.

"Damn, Jane. That's one ugly updo. "She ran her finger over the offending hairstyle as if trying to erase it. "I thought you knew better than that."

"Darcy, that's not me. That's Ophelia Harrison."

"Look, Jane, just because you're embarrassed about your horrible teenage fashion mistakes doesn't mean you have to make up a fake name to cover your ass."

"Her name is written right under her photo. She doesn't even look like me!"

Darcy read the name, mouthing it to herself and then feigning surprise.

"Well! My mistake then. I guess I just couldn't believe that someone would actually name their kid Ophelia. How cruel is that?"

Jane rolled her eyes, but said nothing. She flipped back two pages and pointed at a photo near the center. "That one is me."

Darcy took the book out of Jane's hand, studying the image with an analytical eye (the kind Jane wished she would have for her work).

"Well, looks like you kept the same hairstyle all your life." Darcy sucks on her bottom lip. "It's kinda boring actually."

She dropped the book, and one of the gadgets Jane had been working on was knocked to the floor and snapped in half. That was going to take an entire day to fix. Jane would've docked Darcy's pay for that, except Darcy was an intern. Shame.

"So what's with the yearbook?" Darcy flopped down on the old spinning chair with the broken spring that she'd commandeered for herself on her first day. "Just a random trip down memory lane or was this brought on by something?"

Not in the mood to engage her, Jane wordlessly dropped a torn open envelope in front of Darcy. The emblem on the front was of her old high school's, though Darcy wasn't bound to recognize it.

"Your high school reunion?" Darcy put down the letter she'd just finished reading. "Wow. Didn't think you'd be the nostalgic type."

Jane really wasn't, but she let it go. "Believe it or not, I had a pretty good time in high school." She turned to another page, one covered in photos of the art and music students. "I wouldn't call them the best years of my life, but they were still pretty good."

"I bet you were the coolest kid in the class," said Darcy, her jab playful and without a hint of malice. "Let me guess: science club president?"

"Treasurer actually," Jane turned to the next page. "It's how I learned to manage grant money so well."

"I'd been wondering about that…" Darcy leaned back as far as she could, putting her feet up on the table in the exact manner Jane was constantly telling her not to do. "So, you got anything to wear?"

"I'll figure that one out later," Jane said, adding internally:_'When I decide whether or not I'm actually going to go.' _

"Who's this guy?" Darcy pointed at a young man in a suit standing outside the band room, looking away from the camera.

Jane stared at the picture for a moment, the name coming to her slowly.

"That's Phil Coulson. He always wore suits for some reason and he dated this girl in band. That's about all I ever knew about him. We weren't friends."

Darcy hummed, then pointed to another picture, this one of a boy and a girl walking hand in hand down the hall, while the girl gave the camera a look that promised certain death if the photographer didn't get the hell out of her face.

"That's Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov," Jane said. "They were high school sweethearts and basically inseparable. They even got voted Cutest Couple the year we graduated."

Of course, if Jane remembered correctly, 'cute' was a word entirely ill suited to that particular couple. _'Deadliest_ Couple' would've been more accurate.

By now, Darcy had completely overtaken Jane and her reminiscing time. The rest of the hour was spent answering all of Darcy's questions about Jane's high school life and the people she knew and a bunch of other things that were not as interesting as Darcy made them out to be. Jane found herself relating all the ways in which her alma mater was a groundbreaker in crushing stereotypes. She told Darcy all about Steve Rogers, the football player jock who was the absolute sweetest person anyone could ever know and who fell in love with the British exchange student and never looked back. She talked about the actual science club president, Tony Stark, who traipsed about like he owned the place and had all the girls throwing themselves at his feet (even if, in the end, his heart belonged to his best and oldest friend, and the only person in the world who could manage his crippling ego, Pepper Potts). Story after story Jane related to her young friend. That she could remember so much about her high school experiences when she'd spent most of those four years in the library was astounding, even to her.

"And this," Jane turned to what she hoped would be the final step in their tour through her teenage years, "is Thor Odinson, my old boyfriend."

The picture was of Thor in his football uniform, after their team had won the grand championship thanks to a combination of Steve, the quarterback and Thor, the left tackle (Jane was pretty sure that was what they called it). Together they held the grand prize trophy, won after a long and divisive battle against Hydra High, Shield High's most hated rival. Somewhere in the background, that one freaky guy, Schmidt, and his pals were sulking and planning their revenge, revenge they would never carry out as far as Jane knew.

"Woah, woah, woah, wait a second," Darcy jammed her thumb into Thor's photographed face. "You're telling me that you dated _this guy_?"

She looked about ready to have an aneurysm, making Jane a little nervous about giving an affirmative answer.

"You dated this guy and you didn't marry him." Darcy said as if personally offended by the very concept.

Jane shook her head. "Darcy, come on. Really?"

"Yes,_ really_," she snapped. "Come on, Jane. I only have to look at one picture to know that this Thor guy lives up to his name. He looks like a male model! And do you see his smile? How could you ever let him go?"

Jane pulled the yearbook back to herself. She _knew_ she should have waited until Darcy left for the day to take it out.

"Just because Thor was handsome doesn't mean we worked out as a couple," Jane said, feeling a bit like she was consoling Darcy after a break-up of her own. "We had a good time together those eighteen months, but over time, I realized that him and I weren't good for each other in the long run. We stayed friends after we broke up-"

"Oh, that's what everyone says."

Jane glared at her, but Darcy had already turned away, and it bounced off the back of her head harmlessly.

"If you must know, we also broke up because I was interested in someone else."

Jane opened the yearbook again to a page dedicated to the science club. She took a moment to smile at the one of Tony with his arms around her and their other friend, Bruce, pulling them both into the shot. She felt a pang of regret that she hadn't kept in touch with them.

"This guy right here." Jane drew Darcy's attention to a picture on the side, of a tall young man before a chalkboard, writing out an equation and looking at the camera like he never expected it to be there and hadn't wanted his picture taken at all (if Jane remembered correctly, that was exactly what had happened).

"This is Loki, Thor's brother. He was in the science club with me, and he was pretty much a stone cold genius."

"He was also a stone cold nerd," Darcy said, flicking the book back to Jane like there was a bug on it. "Seriously, Jane? You gave up a literal Adonis for _this_ guy? He looks like you could put him over your knee and snap him in half. And what's wrong with his hair?"

"Looks aren't everything you know," Jane said, "and I'll have you know, I thought Loki was really cute in his own way."

_'Even if he was an arrogant jackass half the time,'_ Jane thought to herself. Probably for the best if she didn't bring that part up to Darcy. She'd hate to taint her happy memories of the one that got away by recalling all the times he provoked her into fights or tricked her into dropping dangerous chemicals (really colored water that he switched out). Knowing Darcy, she'd jump all over that.

"I still think it's a big waste," Darcy said solemnly.

Jane rolled her eyes. "I didn't date Loki anyway. Would've been too awkward after having been with his brother for so long. Plus, I don't think he liked me back anyway."

"Well, isn't that just a shame?" Darcy got up and kicked a broken fender piece into the scrap pile, cheering with it hit the top piece and bounced off. She made it three more steps before whirling around, her eyes alight. "You know what? I bet that guy is going to turn out to be one of those 'transformation' kids."

Jane blinked. "What?"

"Oh, come on, don't you watch TV? There's always that one kid who was a total geek in high school- you know, got shoved into lockers and no one would ever date them- and then the reunion comes along, and suddenly, they've gotten rich and successful and hot as all hell. Like you're going to go to that reunion expecting to find the same sweet little dork you left behind, and instead there's gonna be this incredible sex god who will sweep you off your feet and carry you off into the sunset."

"…Darcy, watch less TV."

She put the yearbook away for good now. She'd been taking too long of a break from work anyway. Those other worlds and wormholes weren't just going to find themselves.

"I bet you twenty bucks I'm right," said Darcy.

"Go do some filing."

Jane fished a screwdriver out of her desk drawer and started on fixing one of her telescopes, all thoughts of reunions, old boyfriends, and Loki, gone for the time being.

* * *

><p>Jane walked into the gymnasium, feeling like she'd entered another period in time. The walls, the floor, and the bleachers brought back long buried memories of a simpler time in her life. A time when all she had to worry about was passing next week's history test and wondering whether or not that crazy Amora chick was trying to sink her claws into her man. Nothing appeared to have changed since her graduation day. The floors may have been waxed and the paint re-applied, but it still felt very much like<em> her<em> place.

After ten minutes, she had yet to see anyone she knew very well. Phil Coulson appeared to have married that Band girl, and Darcy was sure to be amused when she found out that Ophelia Harrison had become a Buddhist monk and shaved her head. She also caught sight of Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov, still together after all these years. Other than that, she had been pretty much alone in the crowd, bumped from this way and that by people she might have walked past a thousand times once, but whom she never got to know when she had the chance. She began to wonder if she shouldn't have just stayed home, and then a hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her into a hard chest.

"Jane Foster!"

That was a voice Jane would know anywhere, ten years of separation or no.

Tony Stark hadn't changed much since graduation. He had grown facial hair, and his suit indicated that he'd inherited that company of his father's and continued to make obscene amounts of money. He gave a dashing smile that probably would've had another girl swooning, but Jane had always been immune to Tony's charm. He had been far more like an annoying big brother when they were in high school, with Bruce being the more level headed middle child. Jane was not ashamed to admit that she'd been the baby in the equation, what with the way Tony and Bruce had taken her under their wing and even threatened Thor when he first started dating Jane.

"Jane, how are you doing?" Tony rubbed the top of Jane's head. Good thing she'd done her own hair instead of going to the salon like Darcy wanted. "You are looking good tonight. Did you find a portal to the fifth dimension yet?"

If this was anyone else, Jane would've walked away. She's been teased enough by her less subtle colleagues for years over her theories, but Tony had been making jokes like this since their freshmen year, all about how Jane was going to rip a hole in the third dimension and fight evil creatures on the other side. It was just Tony being Tony, and Jane had never realized just how much she missed him.

"I've been doing fine," she said, unable to wipe the smile off her face. "Still working on that fifth dimension. How are you doing? Still driving poor Pepper crazy?"

Instead of the derisive snort and off hand remark about how him and Pepper split years ago and now he's married to a supermodel (because how many of us wind up with the person we date in high school, really?), Tony whipped out his wallet.

"Yeah, let me show you the family. That's Pepper right there obviously, and in her arms is Nick. The one at her feet is Sophie. They just turned five."

"Oh, Tony, they're adorable!"

"They're a pair of hellions. They drive me crazy getting into my stuff all the time. Pepper's at home putting them to bed and meeting with the sitter. She'll be here eventually."

Jane handed Tony his wallet back. "That's wonderful, Tony. I'm so happy for you."

"Yeah, hard to believe they lasted so long, huh?" said another man with a kind face that, though aged, was barely changed from the one Jane once knew.

"Bruce!" Jane pulled away from Tony to hug him. "God, it's so good to see you again."

"You too, Jane." He reached out behind him, and a pretty brown haired woman Jane hadn't seen before took his hand. "This is my wife, Betty."

"Nice to meet you," said Betty. She shook hands with Jane, who would've loved to stick around and hear the story of how they met and everything that had happened since, but suddenly, all kinds of familiar faces were popping up, and Jane found himself overwhelmed by one blast from the past after another.

"Looks like the gang's all here tonight," said an ever radiant and swollen stomached Peggy Carter. Jane nearly squealed as she hugged her, careful not to press into her.

"I can't believe you made it. I didn't know they'd send exchange students invites."

"They didn't, actually," Peggy said, holding up her hand to display a diamond ring and a wedding band. "But as the wife of a beloved former student, how could I not attend?"

"You and Steve?" Now Jane really couldn't stop smiling. "I_knew_ he would follow you back to London."

"That he did, and I'm so glad for it."

As the reunions occurred, Jane felt more and more at home among old friends and peers who had only changed outwardly, but were still the same ragtag bunch Jane had known and loved.

Of course, there were still at least two faces she had yet to see, and the longer she went without finding them, the more she feared that she never would, or that she would lose her nerve and have no idea at all what to say when she did.

A flash of yellow came into Jane's vision as one song ended and several couples left the dance floor. Thor was among them, just as handsome as ever and hand in hand with a beautiful dark haired woman. His white teeth were blinding like the lights around the stage. Jane steeled herself before going to them. From the very beginning, this moment had been the reason for her fear, but she had to do it anyway.

She thought she could hear Tony cheering her on in the background. She wouldn't be surprised if that were the case, and she hoped it was so. She needed the encouragement.

"Hi, Thor."

He turned around, looked over her head for a moment, then down. His face lit up.

"Jane Foster!" He hugged her tighter than Tony had. "I had hoped I would see you tonight. You look stunning."

"And you're just as sweet as ever," Jane answered with greater ease than she could've thought possible. Trust Thor to relax her by his presence alone.

The woman he was dancing with came to his side, as if protecting her territory from a potential threat. That might have just been Jane's perceptions, as the woman really didn't look hostile at all.

"Jane, I'd like you to meet my wife, Sif," said Thor. "Sif, this is Jane."

"Nice to meet you," said Sif, smiling. "Thor has told me all about you."

"Good things, I hope," said Jane.

"I don't think anyone could find a bad word to say about you," said Thor.

They laughed, none harder than Jane. It wasn't much of a joke or even funny at all. It was more from the calm that came over her that Jane laughed. She no longer knew what she had feared of coming. Did she think that Thor wouldn't be over her? Or that her own long dead feelings for him would re-emerge and she'd lament having ever let him go? Was she afraid that she'd see Loki again, and find that she no longer cared for him as anything more than Thor's crazy and unattractive young brother the way everyone else used to?

She no longer knew. It all seemed so inconsequential now.

"So where is Loki?" she asked, her heart beating faster as she spoke. "I was hoping I'd see him too."

Sif frowned, leading Jane to think there was some tension between in-laws. She wouldn't be surprised. Loki was never the easiest person to get along with.

"He's around," Thor said. "I thought I saw him before- ah, speak of the devil!"

Jane felt him behind her, long before Thor saw him or she even knew it was him at all. He cast a long shadow and exuded power, stronger than he ever had as a teenager. Before she could lose her nerve, Jane turned around.

Her jaw dropped.

Darcy's words pounded in her ears as she looked up at what had to be Loki, but was so different from the unkempt and surly boy she'd known that Jane had to have entered a parallel universe.

Gone was the unruly mop of curls that Jane remembered, He had grown out his hair past his shoulders and let it hang loose and wavy over his eyes. He had the same face she remembered, but ten years gave him a sort of refined maturity that did absolute wonders for him. And though he was still skinny, the fitted white shirt he wore indicated to Jane that he'd been hitting the gym as of late.

As if things couldn't get any worse, Loki smiled.

"Hello, Jane Foster, it's been far too long."

Did he always have that little growl in his voice? Because that was going straight to the area between Jane's legs.

"H-hi, Loki," she held out a trembling hand to shake. "Good to see you again."

He didn't shake her hand, but he did keep smiling, and his eyes seemed a bit brighter now too, like a predators.

"I see that you are as small as you ever were. Makes me wonder why you came here tonight without a coat. Look at you, you're shaking like a leaf."

Jane fought to keep still, but it wasn't working. Damn him for noticing it, and for bringing it up. He just had to do everything in his power to piss her off and make her uncomfortable, just like the old days.

"I'm fine," Jane said, wiping some sweat off her brow with her arm. "I just uh.." He raised his eyebrows at her, his smile becoming a devilish grin. The bastard. "I just… I owe my intern twenty dollars."


	33. Best Man

**A/N: Written for a challenge proposed by startraveller776 based upon a quote posted on tumblr by lokaneismysecretpleasure.**

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><p><em>'How do you stop loving somebody when they've stopped loving you?'<em>

It's a good question, a very good question.

It's a question he's going to ask himself when he's standing by an altar, watching the woman he loves walk into the arms of another. He'll wonder how to stifle the pain of seeing her eyes so full of love and desire, trained on someone who isn't him.

It's laughable to think that he's fallen so far, and for a Midgardian woman no less. The boy he used to be would've balked. He would've been too young- too ignorant to understand. The Midgardians have a saying: ignorance is bliss. He knows now how true it is.

It's even more absurd to think that out of all the men on Asgard and Midgard alike, the one to steal her away would be his own brother! That will keep him awake at night for years, wondering if he could've prevented it. If he could have stopped them from meeting and igniting a fire within each other that burned eternal.

It's so cruel of fate to damn him thus. He knows that he will always love her, has known it since the very first moment he saw her face. She must have thought him a madman back then. Perhaps he had been.

He's asked to stand at the bridegroom's side during the ceremony. It's an alien tradition from her homeworld. They'll be having a 'mixed' wedding as she calls it. The people of Asgard and her friends from Midgard will witness the union on the rainbow bridge, the border between one realm and the next, in the place of all the stars she loves. It was that or have two weddings, and she's had quite enough of planning one. She doesn't need another.

She asks him herself, because they both know his brother won't. The lies and the betrayal that have tainted their brotherly bond will take years to fade, if they ever do at all. For now, they have a truce, a tentative hand of friendship outstretched and a wish to try and make things as they were. This can be part of it, she says, as if she needed to say a single word to convince him. He would have done it from the start, if only because she wants him to. In his heart of hearts, he knows that he does it for his brother too, because even at the worst of times- when they held their weapons to each other's throats and dared the other to make the kill- he never stopped loving his brother. He will never stop loving either one of them.

So he stands at his brother's side on this day of reckoning, and he watches her- a goddess in white- stand before his brother and exchange her vows with him, the man she loves, and when she looks his way, he smiles.

Because it's what she wants to see.

Because she wants to see her brother-in-law glowing with pride and happiness for his growing family.

Because she wants to know that he is happy for her, for his brother, for the future laid out before them paved in silver and gold.

And he loves her so much, he'll give her anything she wants, even if it kills him. It's the least he can do.

When they are married, he calls for the guests to praise the new couple. He raises mjolnir to the sky and draws away the clouds to bathe the palace of Asgard in light. It will be her home now, for as long as she and her new husband opt to stay, until wanderlust carries them away with the wind, and he'll show her all the wonders of the universe that her people never could have believed were real.

It's really no wonder she chose Loki in the end. He can give her what she really needs.

This is why Thor is content, in an odd sort of way. He's long ago come to terms with the fact that him and Jane couldn't last. She is more than her human constraints, just as Loki is more than a second prince. They transcend their boundaries, apart and now together. Together, they will reach their full potential. Thor would have only hindered her.

That's why he smiles on their happiness.

That's why this is for the best.

But that doesn't make it hurt any less.

_'How do you stop loving somebody when they've stopped loving you.'_

That's a very good question.

It's a question Thor will ask himself everyday for the rest of his life.


	34. Double Date

**A/N: In relation to yesterday, this was a response to auchen's 'make 'em laugh' challenge.**

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><p>Never say things couldn't get any worse, especially if Tony Stark is involved.<p>

Because when Tony Stark is involved, things can_ always_ get worse.

You could be stranded on a desert island with no food, no fresh water, and a swarm of hungry cannibals closing in on you with a swarm of man-eating sharks keeping you from swimming away, and if Tony Stark is around, it could still get worse from there.

This is why Loki was hesitant from the start when it was suggested that him and Jane join Stark and his lover on a romantic outing.

Well, that and because Loki hates the man, and he's pretty sure the man hates him right back. It's kind of hard to bounce back from one throwing the other out a window once. Not that they can't try.

Loki wishes even more that he'd been able to talk Jane out of it when they meet Stark and Ms. Potts at Stark's venue of choice: an establishment that sells nothing but doughy rings the mortal call 'bagels'. They are entirely unappetizing, and Loki hasn't the faintest idea why they had to travel all the way back to the place of his failed invasion at seven in the morning to get them.

"Because these are bagels we're talking about," Stark had explained when an exhausted and somewhat incoherent Jane had asked him. "If we're going to get bagels, we have to go to New York."

"Why don't we just not get bagels?"

Stark looked as if Jane had just suggested they eat babies instead.

So they went for bagels, Stark flying with his lady from their home across the country, and Loki simply transporting himself and Jane to the tiny bagel shop on the tiny land known as 'Long Island.' Apparently, it was fairly close to Manhattan, which might've explained the old woman who screamed at the sight of him, then keeled over clutching her heart. Or the two small children who attempted to attack Loki with bizarre multi-colored guns that shot water instead of something useful for battle.

Stark and Potts arrive when Loki is thoroughly drenched and scowling like an angry cat. Stark hands the kids a wad of cash each and sends them off.

"Alright, I am hungry for some sesame!"

Stark claps his hands and walks to the cashier with Potts at his side.

"Morning, Jane," she says, walking past them. "Morning, uh…"

She seems at a loss before Loki, which makes sense as he's been spending the last few minutes determining how he can set everything and everyone in this room baring Jane on fire and make it look like an accident. In the end, she just nods and walks on by. Smart move.

Stark winds up ordering for the four of them. Ms. Potts gets a wheat bagel with some low fat cream cheese. Jane gets an everything bagel, because now that she's not tired anymore, she's absolutely famished. Stark buys twenty five sesame bagels for himself, because according to him, nobody makes sesame bagels like Big Rico's. Loki has no idea what the fool is talking about and doesn't care. He procures a bagel that is bare of toppings and lets it sit on his plate untouched for fifteen minutes, while Jane wolfs down hers, Potts takes dainty bites, and Stark catalogs his bagels for future meals. He has only two out to eat right now.

"Hey, come on, Rockstar," Stark says a while later, when he's coming back from making a second huge purchase of the cheap rings of dough. "You need to eat. Keep your strength up!"

He slides a plate of already cut and buttered bagel pieces in front of him. Loki would much rather eat blishsnipe eggs boiled in dirt than so much as touch anything Stark gives him. He is about to say as much when Jane's small hand comes to run along his shoulder.

"Give it a try, Loki. It's good." she says.

She has this doe-eyed look that makes Loki soft, loathed as he is to admit it. This is what he gets for falling in love with a mortal woman. He shouldn't known when he first made his plans to lure Jane Foster away from his stupid brother that he'd be leaving himself vulnerable.

Preparing himself for the worst, Loki takes a big bite out of the bagel slice… and it's even worse than he expected.

He starts to cough as the salty taste registers, overtaking his senses and activating his gag reflex. Later on, he'll be ashamed by his show of weakness in front of the herd of mortals, but the fact remains that even on Asgard, he never cared for salty foods. How Stark could've known that and prepared accordingly is a mystery for the ages.

Probably just dumb luck.

"What's wrong, buddy?" Stark asks, grinning. "Don't you like it?"

If looks could kill, Tony Stark would not just be dead. He'd be in the ground cold with worms eating his body as a horde of aliens invade and zap the planet into oblivion, leaving not even dust behind to float aimlessly through the recesses of space. Loki's rage destroys worlds is what it means.

Or today, it just makes Stark choke and gag when he takes a bite of his sesame bagel, and finds the whole thing rather suddenly tastes like a block of salt.

"What's wrong, Stark?" Loki wears an evil smirk that puts Tony's to shame and then some. "Do you not like it?"

"Faga! Flala!" Stark tries to voice his threats, but his throat appears to be closing up. Perhaps Loki should've turned it into Midgardian based salt instead of Asgardian based. It might've been a little easier on the poor little man.

While Potts hovers over him with a glass of ice water (that won't help) and Jane glares at Loki over his shoulder (he doesn't care), a very large and sweaty man in a white apron storms out with a shotgun in hand.

"Alright! Who's the chucklehead who just bought my secret sesame bagel recipe from the cashier?"

Said cashier is trying very discreetly to sneak out the door by crawling on his belly like a snake. Sad for him that he's in plain view of both the gunman and the other patrons, and he gets the paper hat shot off his head for his troubles.

"Anybody?"

Loki thinks he would be best served taking Jane and going. Leave Stark to his pitiful fate. Still, Jane would likely attempt to bar him from her bed for a night should he let the man she inexplicably calls 'friend' die. That would be most inconvenient.

With a quick spell, he pulls the hard salt out of Stark's gullet, allowing him to breath again and focus up.

"Hey!" the large man cocks his gun and aims it at Stark. "You that Iron guy?"

Stark coughs to dislodge another few mouthfuls of dough as Potts helps him sit up.

"What's it to you?"

"I hate you Iron guys!" the large man shouts. "You're crazy flying and science stuff is ruining the whole goddamn country! I'm sick of it!"

Loki thinks he detects a hint of alcohol on the man's breath, which would explain a lot. Stark may not have a strong enough nose to catch it, but he's at least aware enough of what an idiot this man is from his words and actions alone.

"Oh yeah?" he says. "Is that before or after I save the country from certain doom on a regular basis?"

Those are clearly too many big words for the gunman, who answers with a few buckshots to the window right over Stark's head. Glass rains down on their heads, but Loki brings forth a shield to keep them from reaching Jane, and is nice enough to cover Ms. Potts as well. The shards bounce off a quarter of an inch above her head.

Meanwhile, Stark is not taking kindly to being shot at. Not at all. He has pulled the robotic arm piece of his suit of armor out from nowhere, and blasts a hole in the gun toting store owner's wall, right over the board labeled "Employee of the Month," which bore only a picture of that cashier before Stark disintegrated it.

"Alright, that's it! Crazy Iron guy!"

The gunman continues shooting until he rims out of bullets. Stark has only just gotten started, but by now, the rest of the patrons have fled the scene, sirens are going off as blue police cars screech to a halt in front of the store, and a few helicopters with SHIELD insignia are flying overhead, no doubt called in by that one agent who follows Loki and Jane around everywhere and reports to Fury if he is misbehaving. (That agent will be spending the rest of the week as a slug for this.)

It also appears to be raining now. Things just keep improving by second.

With the gunman unconscious and the brunt of the carnage now apparent to Stark, he drops the weaponized glove, glances back at his stupefied girlfriend and 'friends,' with a thousand authority figures either behind them or crashing down through the roof, and shrugs.

"Anyone up for pizza?"


	35. Tuesday Night

**A/N: This is a response to a challenge posted by fourtemperaments on tumblr.**

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><p>It's twelve thirty two in the morning on a humid Tuesday night.<p>

Jane Foster has just completely ruined her life, and she did it all for a man the likes of whom her mother warned her about when she was a girl.

His name is Loki, and that is a name for the ages. He is tall, dark, and undeniably handsome. He is intelligent, witty, powerful, and a hell of a lover. The whole enchilada as some would say. He is also an ambiguously reformed psychopathic mass murderer and potential conqueror of her home world. Jane says 'ambiguous' because no amount of reassurances by Thor will ever convince her that Loki is suddenly good, no matter what happens after tonight.

It's twelve thirty four and Jane is alone in her room.

It's actually a guest room in the palace of Asgard, and after tonight, she imagines there will be a pair of burly guards busting the door down, ready to drag her to the bifrost and drop her ass back on Midgard at the behest of the All-Father. That's only if Thor's dad doesn't decide to just kill her outright. Blow her to smithereens with that staff of his like he had clearly wanted to tonight, when Jane was in the process of smashing his older son's heart to pieces.

It's twelve thirty six and Jane is getting cold.

It's not because the temperature has suddenly dropped or the windchill factor has gone up or anything else natural and ordinary. Jane's life is no longer ordinary. It hasn't been since she hit a god with her truck, and after tonight, the last few visages of normality have been stripped from her and carried away with the tide. She has no idea yet what's she's become.

It's twelve thirty seven and Jane is no longer alone.

His arms come around her from behind, warm and cool at the same time. They are much like he is, a bundle of contradictions and confusions. They come together to form this enigma of a man, who is actually pretty easy to read if you try hard enough. She won't tell him that, though.

It's twelve thirty nine and Loki's fingers undo the knots of her dress.

She's been daydreaming about his hands, about them running down the length of her to her core. She had dreamt of him as Thor led her into the banquet hall, and as she explained to a distraught Thor and all the gathered friends and courtiers why she couldn't accept his proposal. It was not the first time that she fantasized. It would not be the last.

The only part of him that never enters her mind is his voice, because she hates it. He has a wonderful voice for sure, a voice that speaks possessive words in her ear as he brings her closer to the stars, but she hates it all the same.

"That was quite a show," he says, deep and husky and oh so terribly. "I won't lie, much as I enjoy having you to myself at last, seeing Thor so broken might have been my favorite part."

Her hands that would reach out and stroke the lines of his face ball into fists, and she shivers with more than anticipation.

"Stop talking," she says.

His hands slow at her sensitive area. Her body cries out in protest. Her mouth has the hardest time staying closed.

"Why should I?"

He's mocking her. Always mocking her.

She hates him so much, almost as much as she needs him.

"I don't want to hear you," she says without a hint of the hesitation he must have expected. She's beyond that now. She has nothing left to lose. "I just want you to take me. No talking."

And so he does exactly that. She sees his face for the first time over her head. It speaks for him. It speaks of pain and insanity, lust and hatred, sorrow and regret. Above them all is need, need that matches her own. It's wild and untamed and she allows herself to be consumed by it.

She gave up her Prince Charming for a dragon, and the strangest part of all is that she has no regrets.

So far.

It's twelve forty two on a humid Tuesday night, and on this night, Jane Foster is reborn.


	36. Janey

**A/N: My response to pankolicious16's lonely lokane challenge on tumblr.**

**This is actually based on a discarded fic idea I had years ago, which was in turn inspired by the Alfred Hitchcock film, Marnie.**

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><p>In Loki Odinson's beachside home was a massive king size bed with deep green silk sheets and pillows lined with gold embroidery. The mattress cost him several thousand dollars and boasted top-notch comfort and support. If Loki ever slept on it, he was sure to get a full night in. It would surely be more comfortable than the couch in his office.<p>

But sleeping in his bedroom would require spending the night in his home. He wasn't quite ready to do that yet. That house still smelled too much like Odin's freshly laundered shirts in the closet, or Frigga's seasoned rump roast fresh out of the oven, or Thor's five hundred dollar cologne that he used to suffocate everyone with because the fool could never figure out how to apply it correctly. Every corner of the house offered up some new scent and a memory. That was why Loki fell asleep every night in a pile of pamphlets for real estate agents with numbers scrawled on the covers that he would call back tomorrow _for sure_.

* * *

><p>He had been the President and CEO of Odinson Corp for six months. Six months for those on the board who hadn't been in on the coup to come to terms with the new order of things. Loki couldn't for the life of him understand how his father had fostered such undying loyalty among the withered old farts. They still looked upon him with uttermost loathing whenever they encountered him, be it in the halls or at a meeting.<p>

One of them even called him a cheap upstart to his face. Or rather, they hissed it out the corner of their mouth at the door following an arduous quarterly report. Loki's reaction had been to complete his filing and then exit through the back, thinking about what he should get for dinner and wondering if his father ever had a friend with an ounce of cleverness to him.

Because really, an _upstart_? Was that the best they could do?

Loki could think of so many better words to describe himself.

* * *

><p>There was a new girl in the executive department. A mousy yet pretty secretary. She typed up letters and retrieved coffee for some of the higher-ups. Never for Loki. He was much too far above those higher-ups. He only saw her once a day, on the way to his office after breakfast, when she was inevitably fumbling with some xerox-ed papers in front of his door. Rarely does she say good morning to him. Even more rarely does he answer her back.<p>

She wouldn't have his attention at all, except he's pretty sure he saw a grainy black and white photo of the side of her face on the news a few months ago, in the middle of a report about some other company head divested of a quarter of a million dollars in bonds and other assorted valuables, all from the personal safe in his office.

(That was why Loki never bothered with that old hunk of metal Odin left behind. They were so unreliable with all those sneaky little thieves around.)

Then there was the day an old college friend came to visit; a rotund little man who had gone on to be a litigator with a caseload the size of a planet.

"I'm telling you, that's her!" He had poked furiously at the glass window, drawing circles around the secretary at her desk. "Her hair is different, but that's definitely the girl I hired three months ago. She cleaned out my office. My safe, my tin of petty cash, even my gold Rolex that I'd taken off to clean! Thousands of dollars gone in the blink of an eye, and now, here she is! It must be fate."

Loki had listened to the story without a word, and then spent the next hour and a half convincing his friend that it was simply not possible for that girl to be his thief. She'd been working at the company for at least a decade. Clearly, she just had one of those faces. It was an honest mistake, really.

After his friend had left, disappointed, but reassured, Loki had watched the woman through the ring shaped smudge left behind on the glass. On the computer screen was her resume, most of it falsified. Her listed name was at the top of the page.

Nina Sayers.

Apparently, she'd been hoping no one had been to the movies in the last five years.

On his desk was the profile from his private investigator, bearing her true name.

He had not been the one to hire her. That person no longer had a job. Why Ms. 'Sayers' did when her intent was obvious was something Loki was still trying to discern.

* * *

><p>He woke up at his desk chair, as he was wont to do on long work days. His business email was open on the screen. Behind it was a tab for his personal mail, the one he stopped using six months ago. The email from Thor was still at the top. Nobody else had ever bothered to message him before the coup anyway. Why should they start now?<p>

The email was unopened. It had been from the time it was sent. Loki didn't know what his brother would have to say to him about losing his gilded throne and he didn't care. He really didn't. He only kept the email because of how immaterial it was to him. He cared so little, he couldn't even be bothered to delete it.

Loki woke up only because there was someone else in the office with him. It had been several weeks since he discovered Ms. 'Sayers' dirty little secret. Weeks of waiting for her to make a move, and planning what he would do when the time came. He had begun to lose hope that any of those plans would come into fruition, that his words to his lawyer friend had been truer than he realized. Maybe she really did just have one of those faces.

But of course, here she was. Just as he knew she would be. It was about time.

How she had found the combination to that safe did not concern him. Odds were good that she'd found her way in here at some point while he was taking lunch, perhaps under the guise of picking up some paperwork for delivery to a department head. That slip of paper taped to the bottom of the drawer with the numbers stamped across it simply would not come off in spite of Loki's best efforts. Of course, Odin_would_ use Thor's birthday. The old fool.

The room was so dark when all the lights on the floor were off. So dark that poor little 'Nina' could be forgiven for believing herself alone. She was certainly meticulous. A quick glance at the wall clock, and Loki knew that now was the time that security changed shifts, and the janitors had long gone to work on a lower level. His door was wide open, the lock expertly picked. His acute hearing picked up the faint squeak of latex gloves. This was a woman who knew what she was doing.

He waited for her to open the safe, and feel around inside and realize there was nothing to be found. He waited for the moment when her fluid motions came to a grinding halt, and then he flicked the desk lamp on. In the warm light, she was crouched in the corner by the safe, curling into herself like a small, terrified animal.

He grinned down at her, like the predator life and circumstance had forced him to become, and he knew now why he had kept her around for so long and would continue to do so. All this time, he had needed the company, and really, he could do worse.

"Miss Foster…_ good evening_."


	37. Slow Dance

**A/N: My response to a challenge issued by nakedchrisevans on tumblr. It is also a spy AU.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>She's wearing pantyhose.<p>

Jane Foster- whose wardrobe consists primarily of flannel and blue jeans for her off days at home- is wearing pantyhose.

Pantyhose with hairspray on the seat. Because it keeps them from _riding up_, her handler said.

_'Well, Agent Coulson,'_ Jane would have liked to say. _ 'Thank you, I saw that movie too. There is still no way in hell I am going anywhere dressed like this. I don't care if it's for a mission or how many drug Kingpins we're trying to take down.'_

To which she would have received a stern lecture about the importance of putting the well-being of others over her own desires for comfort, and how the fate of the world rested on her shoulders and her only concern should be getting the target either in custody or a body bag (the agency had no preferences), yadda yadda ya.

And so, Jane is stuck.

At least she doesn't have to wear cowboy boots and a thong and dance around a pole this time. No, instead she has to dance with middle aged European guys who step on her toes and smell funny. Hours will be spent this way, until she can locate the target in this mess of faces and identical suits.

She finds him after twenty minutes of one bearded bald guy taking up all her time. He cuts into every dance she has and 'discreetly' sniffs her hair every chance he gets. His hands travels further down into 'no-man's land' with each encounter. The only plus is that he doesn't stomp on her feet like some other people she could mention. After tonight, she's wearing fluffy bunny slippers and never dancing again for the rest of her life.

The target is by the bar, alone. He's sipping something unidentifiable and toasting to the air over the empty stool beside him. It's odd to find him on his own like this. Even his bodyguards seem to have the night off. Not that he needs them. There are a few dozen dead agents in his wake who prove he does not.

Knowing that, the agency is no longer pulling punches. Jane Foster is the only known operative who has survived her encounter with Loki Laufeyson. That alone elevated her from just another faceless desk jockey to a top agent. It's made for some great opportunities and a hell of a pay raise, but if it ever gets out _why_ Laufeyson spared her (and continues to do so), she's probably going to wind up in a metal box on some uncharted island for the rest of her life.

"I'm getting tired," she tells her partner in accented French. No matter how many speech classes she takes, she can never get rid of that American drawl of hers. "I think I'll get a drink."

"I'd be happy to pay for you," the bearded man says. Jane has a feeling he's referring to more than the drink and she wants to vomit. What does this moron take her for?

"I'd rather go alone, thank you."

She glances at the bar, and her stomach drops. He's gone.

Scanning the room for him- or giving one of her guys in her crowd the signal- proves unnecessary. Loki is a slippery bastard; he prides himself in it. He moves with the shadows like a snake. Before another word can leave Jane's mouth, large hands reach around behind her to her shoulders, and the bearded man blanches.

"I believe the lady no longer desires your company. Be off with you, then."

The bearded man's mouth flaps up and down like a fish, but whether he's a crooked businessman or just an out and out crook, he knows better to cross Loki Laufeyson. He's gone in a flash, and now Jane is alone, and her earpiece has been lowered without her noticing it. No one will know he's here unless she gives the signal. She'd do it, but Loki's lips are pressed to the side of her neck, and that's very distracting.

"You look lovely tonight, my Jane," he says, his mouth moving slowly up to her ear. "Especially ravishing, if I may say."

"You may not," Jane says, though her legs and her will are weakening fast. "And I am not _your_ Jane. I will never belong to you."

"But you already do, my love," he says, grinning against her ear like the devil he is. "You have for some time now, and you always will."

"You wish."

He chuckles. "Oh, how I love that fire. I hope you never lose it."

Jane gives the signal. She has to. Another few seconds and she's going to completely lose her mind (and then most likely her head). Her men are racing around the room. Their pre-determined containment strategy starts with getting all the civilians out and ends with Loki in cuffs (or the morgue). It goes against everything Jane has ever believed in that she hopes it will be neither, but perhaps she has a darker heart than she knows.

Loki knows.

"I'm afraid we'll have to cut this short."

Jane can't see her agents anymore. They're getting everyone out. Just as planned. "Yeah, we will."

Then the fire alarm goes off. That is not part of the plan.

People begin to scream as water rains down and soaks their jewels and dresses. The plan had been to use pretense and tell the guests that a threat had been issued, and though the situation was not urgent, everyone was advised to calmly and quietly head for the exits. The questions inherent in that story and the alarms quite suddenly going off is enough to start a frenzy. This is chaos, and chaos is Loki's business.

Chaos is what has Loki capturing her lips in the middle of the madness, when no one is paying attention to them. Only Jane will know, and only her lips will tingle long after Loki has departed, hanging off the rope ladder of his helicopter and waving goodbye. Jane can never decide if their inability to shoot him down is because they really suck, or because he's just that good.

He's a rat bastard either way.

"Why did I fall in love with you?" Jane wonders aloud as she leaves the party and prepares to deal with tomorrow's fallout.

No matter how many encounters they have, she fears she is never going to know the answer.


	38. The Damned

**A/N: This was a request from cariebishop.**

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><p>Jane broke her leg when she was a child. It had been a total accident. For the first time ever, she rode her bike without training wheels. She got too bold and tried to ride over that dirt patch all the bigger kids played on. The doctor said it was a hairline fracture- nothing to worry about- but if she'd fallen at even a slightly different angle, she could have snapped her femur right in half. Jane hadn't known what any of that meant, all that mattered to her was the pain.<p>

It was the worst she ever experienced in her life before now. Now, she understands that she's never known what pain is.

She's confined to a room too cramped for her liking. It really says something about how life in Asgard has affected her; this room is actually the size of a football field. It's just that the regular room she shares with her husband is the size of ten footballs fields. After a while, the difference becomes stark.

Said husband has been by her side for nine hours. Ceaseless, never sleeping or growing tired. Just holding her hand and stroking her hair and assuring her that it will be okay. She will be cured if he has to tear the realms apart to make it happen.

She doesn't doubt that Thor would do it either, she just wishes he wouldn't. She is so unworthy of that kind of devotion. If she was stronger, she'd tell him that, and she'd tell him why. She tells herself that it's the threat of breaking his heart that keeps her quiet. Really, it's just because she's a coward.

It's also because she feels like a rabid dog is trying claw and bite it's way out of her chest, and the pain has sealed her mouth shut (even breathing now is pure agony). But even in perfect health, she'd never tell the truth.

Thor leaves her only once, right when she thinks she'll go to sleep. He knows the time is coming. They all do. They might not say it, they might even tell her that Eir will surely have a cure any day now, like she's a child who needs to be consoled with a stuffed toy. It's nothing but hot air. There is no cure for this. Jane knows it. They all know it. Loki knows it better than all of them.

His illness progresses on the other side of the wall. Sometimes, Jane can hear him breathing, gasping, coughing, choking. These walls are so thin for being Asgardian made. His sickness is baffling, even more than Jane's is. Her, they can explain away with her prior status as a Midgardian. Maybe Idunn's apple didn't really cure her of all human ills.

But then, how is it that_ Loki_ is sick? How can he exhibit all the same symptoms Jane does and more? He who has never been sick a day and is a Prince to boot.

It's a mystery.

A mystery that will die with them.

Perhaps it's for the best.

When Jane is alone- Thor is called away by a pair of guards who need help with an attempted prison break- she sinks into her bed. It's so damn comfortable, and somehow, that hurts too.

She opens her mouth. Wheezes. There's a blade running through her throat.

She can't speak a word, and so she uses her brain.

_'Loki?'_ she calls out. Her thoughts are her best friend in the world. They can never make her hurt._ 'Loki? Can you hear me?'_

There's grunting and groaning on the other side of the wall. This must be torture for him. If Jane could, she would smile.

_'Is this what you wanted?'_ she asks him. He can hear her. She knows he can. _ 'I wouldn't leave Thor for you, so this is what I get, huh?'_

More groaning, and bedsheets shifting. Is he trying to sit up?

_'You were never happy with him.'_

_'So you're going to kill us both.'_

_'Tell me you will be mine.'_

_'We've already had this discussion. Many many times.'_

_'You always say no, and yet you always come to my bed. Why is that?'_

That's a good question, and Jane doesn't know what it says about her that she hates him for asking it more than she hates him for killing her.

_'This is the most attentive Thor has been in years,'_ she 'says'. There's no point in hiding this sort of thing from Loki.

_'Well, I'm glad to see I've salvaged your marriage if nothing else.'_

That almost sounds like the old Loki, the one who charmed her in spite of his laundry list of crimes and character defects. The one who got her into this mess in the first place.

_'You know that I couldn't have gone with you even if I wanted to.'_

Loki has been on house arrest for years. His magic restricted, he had only his mind to figure out all the little loopholes in his punishment and find that he was still capable of potion making, and of slipping things in her food at a routine banquet.

He moves again, and this time, it's slow and steady and so very sad.

_'We could have tried.'_

He sounds so like a kid that it breaks Jane's heart. There is something so genuine there that she never could have expected from him.

_'And how many times have you tried to break your bonds without luck?'_

He doesn't answer. He groans at another wave of pain that Jane can feel through their link. It doesn't hurt her like her own pain does. It rolls over her like a wave, producing a gentle buzz that actually might sooth her. Until Loki's body relaxes, and he moans, and Jane feels that like pain this time.

_'Then this is the only way,'_ he 'says' _'The only way we can be free.'_

He coughs. A real cough that Jane hears through the link and through the wall. It gets her in the chest, right in the side of her heart that is for Loki. That side has slowly consumed the side she had saved for Thor. It's a loss that she has yet to mourn.

He's a sad man, that Loki. Tragic. Maybe that was what drew her to him. He is a man with nothing. His mother is dead, his friends have left him, he brother can barely look at him.

In the same vein, she is a woman with nothing. She's lived much longer than she was meant to. Her friends are dead, her family non-existent. Even her husband barely knows her, if he ever did.

Somehow when she wasn't looking, Loki became her lifeline. He became the only one who understood, who knew the need for more than this that she did. She always knew he'd be the death of her.

Though her arm is burning, she finds the strength to raise it, pressing it against a wall that appears to be made of razor blades. This spot is warmer than the rest, like his hand is over hers. She hopes it is.

_'I still don't love you.'_

Somewhere in the dark recesses of her mind, she thinks she hears him laughing.

_'You don't have to.'_

No, she doesn't.

That dog in her chest is crawling with it's claws out into her throat. It arms around her throat and it squeezes. She can't her Loki's voice in her head anymore. She can't feel him at all. She can't feel anything. Not even the pain. She's so numb, that she can move her lips again.

Her eyes start to close, and when they do, she's smiling.


	39. The Prank

**A/N: ****This is inspired both by bluepixystix's halloween challenge, but also because PrincessPrettyPants here on requested a story about Loki and Jane in a haunted house.**

**I don't think this is quite what they had in mind, but whatever.**

**Happy Halloween!**

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><p>It's just a little bit of fun. At least, that's how it started out.<p>

I had to do it, really. This little nerd, Jane Foster, was trying to horn in on my man!

What, you think I'm crazy?

Please. I see the way she looks at him: all googly eyes and luminescent blushes like some kind of stupid anime girl. She's just like all the others. All those soft headed baby girls who think they have a chance with a guy like Thor. Don't make me laugh.

I would be happy to write Jane off as just another one of them, except I think Thor might actually have this crazy idea in his head that he likes her back. No idea how that happened.

I guess my Thor is just a tad naive. He's too big hearted for his own good sometimes. He's always being nice to people who don't deserve it. People who are beneath him is what I mean.

That's why he's lucky to have me around. I protect him from all that riff-raff. He may not realize yet all that I do for him, but he will. Someday very soon, I know that he will.

He'll see that I'm far better than some mousy little science nerd who looks more like a ten year old boy than a seventeen year old girl. Meanwhile, I am regularly mistaken on the street for a Maxim cover model. There really is no comparison here.

That's why I, Amora, have taken it upon myself to put little Miss Jane Foster in her place. I am going to show her that she far too weak in both mind and body to ever give Thor what he needs. By the time I'm through, that simpering little peon will be running for the hills and crying her eyes out.

I can just picture it now. Ha! I can't wait…

So my plan is simple: Jane's been working the school haunted house for Halloween. I don't really care much about holidays, but tonight I got to wear my sexy devil costume and get Thor really riled up. I think something would've happened, except that stupid bitch, Sif, was in the way.

Seriously, she's been hovering around him all damn day. Sometimes, I think I hate her even more than Jane, but I'll figure out what to do with her later.

Now, what was I saying? Oh, right.

So Jane's been working the haunted house that the juniors all put together. It's as lame as you'd expect. Nothing but phony ghosts strung up with string and geeks in costumes jumping out at you like that's actually scary.

If they want scary, they should just have Thor's creepy brother do all the parts. I swear, Loki spends so much of his time skulking through the halls and staring off whoever gets too close, that I'm starting to believe that rumor going around that he's really a vampire. Sure wouldn't surprise me. He is way too skinny and pale.

That's why he factors so heavily in to my little revenge plot against Jane.

See, it's pretty common knowledge that Loki and Jane can't stand each other. I don't know what the story with them is. One day, they just up and started hating each other right out of the blue. Something about an accident or Loki just in general being a prick. I don't even care to find out.

All that matters is that Loki is a weirdo freak who scares the hell out of everyone, and he happens to hate Jane Foster's guts.

Locking them up in the haunted house after hours was the most logical action I could have taken. The most fun too.

Look at her now, Jane is just noticing that the door is jammed and there's no other way out. I've personally taken a hiding place just inside this broom closet. It smells like dust and I'm probably going to have to have my entire outfit professionally cleaned, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.

I have got to see this.

I think I hear Loki coming out now. His job at the haunted house was to collect money and supervise the 'performers' while they were at work. I guess he did a good job. Wasn't really paying attention.

I know earlier, him and Jane had this big blow up. Jane was handing out candy to the people coming out of the haunted house. She accused Loki of stealing her extra bag of Reeses, and things just kind of spiraled out of control from there.

I have to admit, it was almost scary watching them fight. I don't just mean Loki (it was mostly him, though), Jane is actually kind of a fireball when you get her going.

She's still not good enough for Thor, of course.

"You are the most insufferable asshole I have ever met in my life!" she had shouted at him at the end of it all.

"That means little to me coming from a worm," he had said.

Ouch. That must've hurt. I couldn't have said it better myself.

So Jane's been fiddling with that doorknob for at least a minute now. I think she's starting to realize that it's not going to budge. Poor baby.

And now, here's Loki! Whatever took you so long, Mr. Creepy?

"You're wasting your time with that," he says. I can't tell if he's mocking her or not, but knowing him, he probably is.

"I'm about ready to break this stupid door down!"

Oh, I hope she really does try that. Maybe she'll get a splinter and cry.

I knew I should have brought my iphone. This costume sadly doesn't come with pockets.

Okay, I think she's giving up and realizing that she's trapped in this haunted house- which is really just one of the science labs, but we'll ignore that for now- and her only company is her worst enemy, who is also possibly some kind of hell demon.

"Are we seriously stuck in here?" Jane is asking herself. Hmm… funny how she refers to herself _and_ Loki.

"For now, I suppose," Loki says. He's got this look on his face and I just know he's getting ready for some mischief. Poor Jane. She doesn't stand a chance. "Since we'll be here a while, perhaps we should make use of this time."

Jane has let go of the knob, and she keeps staring at that door like it's suddenly going to evaporate and she can escape. Oh man, she is so screwed right now.

I, Amora, am an absolute genius. Oh yes I am.

Now Jane is starting to turn around. I think she might be shaking.

I hope she starts screaming at him and insulting him again, and when that doesn't do anything, I hope she starts begging for her life or something funny like that.

Or maybe she'll skip right to the begging. That would be even better.

I guess a part of me is wondering what the hell Loki was talking about just now, about him and Jane making use of this time, but I figure that's just Loki's way of psyching her out. He's trying to get into her head and make her lose her mind or something.

This is going to be more fun that I thought. I can feel it.

Okay, so now they're facing each other, and Jane is walking to him… and now she's kissing him…

She is kissing him right now.

Like- _really_ kissing him!

And I think… yup, he's kissing her back.

And my God, his hands are _everywhere_. He is not wasting any time.

From the way Jane is moaning he must be a damn good kisser too-

_Why am I thinking about this when I should be having a meltdown that my plan is failing?_

Oh no, they're starting to paw at each other. They are not_really_ going to have at it right here, are they?

…Loki just ripped her shirt clean off.

Yeah, they're gonna do it right here.

I should look away.

I cannot look away.

Jane's going for Loki's shirt now. She's ripping it off and… oh my God, _hello_ Mr. Odinson, where have you been all this time?

This is ridiculous. This is not how it was supposed to go!

I wanted to scare Jane off, but instead I'm getting her laid, and by Thor's creepy-yet-secretly-really-hot brother of all people!

Can this get any worse?

"We need to stop."

Jane looks pissed. "What? Why?"

"Because I know you, and I know you are not fond of doing this in front of an audience."

…yeah, it can get worse.

I think Jane might be looking this way, but I can't be sure.

Actually yes, yes I am sure.

Because I think she just _teleported_ over here, and now she's ripping the door off it's hinges and pulling me out and- _Christ_her grip is too strong. I think she broke something.

"Well, look at what we have here."

She's holding me up, like _off the ground_ up.

And I'm pretty sure those fangs of hers are not plastic. I don't think Loki's are either.

"I guess now we know how we got trapped in here," she's saying with a hungry gleam in her eye. She drops me into the corner. Her and Loki are boxing me in from all sides and staring down at me like I'm a hunk of fresh meat. "Good thing too. I haven't had anything to eat all day."

"I must agree, my dear," says Loki as his and Jane's eyes turn bright red. "I'm absolutely _famished_."

I, Amora, probably should have thought this through a little better.


	40. Mischief Night

**A/N: One more for Halloween. This one was a request from anonymous. ****  
><strong>

**Hope you all had a great one!**

**(Also, if you don't figure out right away who Loki and Jane are dressed as, I will be worried about you.)**

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><p>"Please stop picking at it."<p>

Jane stuck her tongue out at him. She'd long ago stopped caring about looking immature or silly. When Loki Odinson was your boyfriend, those things stopped mattering fast.

"I can't help it. It's itchy!" She scratched at the thick, crusty painted on stitches. A few small pieces had chipped off, and the skin underneath was screaming red. "I'd like to see you try wearing all this make-up."

Loki glanced at her beneath charcoal coating his eyes and a penciled on skeletal smile that was somehow not as wide as his trademark 'mischievous' smile.

"Fine," Jane muttered, looking away before his white painted face pissed her off more than it did on a daily basis.

"For your information, I think you look lovely tonight." Loki's arm around her shoulders played with the waist length red wig that bothered her enough without his interference. "Blue is a good color on you."

"Maybe if you stopped smudging it," Jane said.

A half-hearted attempt at pulling away only gave him a stronger grip on her. Jane didn't mind so much once a gaggle of girls from their homeroom class appeared out out the mist. As usual, their lusty stares at Loki made way for jealous glares at Jane. It might even have been worse tonight, because _of course_ Loki would be absolutely rocking that pinstripe suit with the comical bat shaped bow tie. Popular as his costume was, Jane had yet to find another guy who wore it quite like he did.

Staving off the fangirls' advances was a simple matter of pulling Loki in for a short, yet very sweet kiss, then quietly gloating as the girls walked off in a huff. She'd never been so territorial before Loki came into her life, but that was just his influence. She was tame compared to how he got when other guys checked her out.

"Well, now I don't even want to go to the party," Loki said, his lips right up to her ear so that his husky tone achieved full effect.

"Oh no?" Jane asked coyly.

"I'd much rather find the nearest empty house and spend the rest of the night making you scream."

Jane shivered.

"Breaking and entering is a crime, you know," she said, "and mischief night was yesterday."

Loki chuckled.

"Jane, every night is mischief night for me. You know that."

A snap and a flurry of shrieks answered him before she could. Up ahead, a jumbo sized rope net swung back and forth on a sturdy tree branch, as the people inside flailed about, searching in vain for an exit. Loki watched them go with all the twisted satisfaction of a true puppet master.

This was the reason Jane no longer feared immaturity.

Any and all indigent demands that Loki stop fooling around and let them go died in her throat once Jane realized those annoying fangirls were no longer in sight.

"Like it?" Loki asked, trademark smile in place.

"Yeah, I love it," Jane said with only a hint of sarcasm.

"I have at least twenty more that have yet to be set off. I'm hoping to hear from Stark soon that he's found the one over his bedroom door."

"How did you get one into his house in the first place?" Jane asked.

His smile grew and darkened. "I have my ways."

_'That's what you get for having an evil boyfriend,'_ said the little voice in Jane's head that sounded more and more like Darcy every time she heard it.

Though they did not, in the end, go looking for an empty house, they did get to Tony's place just in time for the party to start. He could be heard all the way up the block, screaming bloody murder about traps and nets and _'Loki, you son of a bitch, when I get my hands on you…'_

They entered the sea of colorful costumes, greeting friends and acquaintances, receiving compliments on their costumes and complimenting right back (or at least Jane did).

"Hey, Loki!" A girl in a sleek catgirl costume that was open at the top leaned over the punch table, beckoning Loki to her with a lidded gaze. "Want to spend the night with a _real_woman?"

Jane raised an eyebrow at her, too amused to be threatened. Then she gave Loki's hand a quick squeeze.

"You wouldn't happen to have another net laying around, would you?"

Loki squeezed right back, then drew her flush against him.

"I have a better idea," he said, and with no further delay, his mouth covered hers.


	41. Until Next Time

One day, Jane wakes up in her brand new bed in her brand new apartment, and there is a dead Norse God sitting on her love seat.

Okay, it's not really a love seat, more like a footstool with a velvety cover over it (she's had an influx of cash ever since that whole Nobel Prize thing, but she hasn't had time to get to the store yet), and the Norse God in question is quite obviously not dead, as evidenced from the color in his cheeks and the alertness of his gaze as he stares at her from across the room.

That's really quite distressing, because Jane is pretty sure Loki was dying from a stab wound on an alien planet last time she saw him.

"Oh good," he says, like this is a perfectly normal thing for him. "You're awake."

Jane leaps out of bed, too quickly to remember that she went to bed last night in a plain spaghetti strap top and even plainer black panties. She backs into a corner, putting as much space between them as she can, though rationally, she knows he can just get up and walk to her.

"What- what- what-" her eloquence and grace under pressure are not what she won the Nobel Prize for.

"What am I doing here?" he supplies, smiling in a way that is in equal parts aggravating and arousing. "Technically, I'm not here. This is a dream, Jane Foster. You have nothing to fear."

Jane would laugh if she could. As it is, she can't manage much more than a choked groan.

"That's rich coming from the guy that leveled half of New York."

"Goodness, are you ever going to let that go? You've never even set foot in that city, have you?"

"It doesn't matter, it's the principle of the thing," Jane seethes, and then she wants to kick herself, because she might as well have just told him that he was right and give him incentive to fuck with her head even more than he already was. "And you still haven't told me why you're here. Don't you have some innocent race to subjugate?"

For a second, she thinks he might laugh- like, actually full on laugh in her face- but then he doesn't. He seems to think better of it.

"As a matter of fact, I've found that forcibly taking over a throne is not quite as satisfying as I had hoped. That's why I decided to visit you, if only in an unreal form."

Jane still doesn't believe his whole 'All Just a Dream' story. She has never had a lucid dream before, but she's pretty sure she knows the difference between reality and a dream world. She's tempted to try pinching herself, just to be very very sure. Not while he's watching, though. He'd interpret that as her actually believing him.

"You couldn't have picked someone else to bother?"

"I could have," he says, "I simply didn't want to."

"Oh, that's great," Jane says, walking back to her bed and flopping onto it. Dream or no dream, she's more exhausted now than she was when she first went to sleep. "That's just wonderful."

"I get the feeling you're not happy to see me."

"Oh, you think?" She throws a pillow over her face, but she can still hear him.

"That's just cruel, my dear Jane Foster, and here I was so looking forward to seeing your lovely face again. I wish you wouldn't hide it from me."

Jane removes the pillow. Not because of what he said, but because she just needs to see the cracks in her ceiling to know she is still in her room and not the Twilight Zone.

"Are you flirting with me?" she asks.

"Does that bother you?"

_'YES!'_ she wants to scream. She should scream it, too. She just can't make her mouth form the word.

"Regardless, we're going to have to cut this short. I believe I am about to be woken up unfortunately. I will return to you, Jane Foster, and I believe next time, it will be in a more solid form."

"Remember to bring flowers," Jane says, because why the hell not? The dead God of Mischief is already trying to hit on her.

"Any particular kind you like?"

"Daffodils are good."

"I'll keep that in mind. We'll meet again, Jane Foster. Until then…"

Jane sits up in bed. She doesn't know how she got from the foot of the bed to under the covers until she looks around her room and realizes that it's seven in the morning and the sun has only just risen. Her alarm clock is blinking and a jaunty tune is blaring. Time for her to get up.

"It really was a dream," she thinks out loud, and then she shakes her head. "Of course it was a dream. What was I thinking? Loki's dead, and he wouldn't be visiting me anyway."

Jane rubs what's left of the sleep from her eyes and heads for the bathroom. Ten minutes later, her teeth and hair are brushed, her face is clean, and her clothes for the day are pre-arranged in her closet. She returns to her room intent on dressing quickly and grabbing a quick breakfast of toast and butter before it's time for work.

She stops dead in her tracks.

The flower vase in the corner of the room is not new. It's an old antique that belonged to her grandmother, and it's one of the few sentimental items Jane has to remember her by. That it's suddenly bursting full of sunny yellow daffodils is something Jane will never understand, not even when she picks up the attached card with shaking hands and reads a single line written in classy handwriting.

_'For next time. -L'_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Oh, that Loki.**


	42. Just Business

**A/N: This was an anonymous request.**

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><p>That Jane was crushing on her boss wasn't so much a problem for her. It was only the third time in a row it had happened.<p>

The first time, it was Donald Blake, the gorgeous assistant professor with the movie star grin and a voice like silk. To make a long story short, that hadn't been one of Jane's better decisions.

The second time was significantly better, though Jane would swear until her dying day that the three dates with Thor had been in no way a means to get over Don. So what if they occurred only a month after she and Don broke up? Who cares that Thor was basically a taller, more muscular and facial hair having version of Don? That didn't mean anything.

It was still for the best that Jane took that transfer across the country when she did. Everything would have been perfect if Jane could have just kept the promise she made to herself not to fall for anymore superiors.

Loki Odinson was Thor's brother, or so everyone told her. If they hadn't, and had he any other last name in the world, Jane never would have guessed that they even knew each other. The two were as different as night and day. Thor was golden and happy and sweet. Loki was dark and brooding and… honestly kind of a pain in the ass to deal with.

That didn't stop Jane from fantasizing about his long, lean body stretched out over hers, or his thin pink lips trailing hot kisses down her clavicle to her navel. Nor did it stop her from watching him through the glass windows of his office as he went over paperwork, discussed company mergers over the phone or sweet-talked potential clients with that oh so delicious British accent of his.

"I have the paperwork ready for the quarterly meeting, Jane," said young Ian Boothby on an average Tuesday morning in the middle of June. He was a new addition to the office, fresh out of grad school and wet behind the ears. He was a good worker, though. Jane was happy to have him around.

"Hm?" she mumbled. She had files of her own open on the computer screen and spread out over her desk. She should have finished with them twenty minutes ago, but then Mr. Odinson returned from his lunch break, and his white dress shirt looked especially fitted today. Jane had often suspected that the seemingly bony man worked out regularly…

"Er… Jane? Ms. Foster?"

"What?" That got her attention. Jane never liked being called by her last name; not by someone who worked on the same level as her. "Oh, right. Thanks, Ian. You can just leave them there and I'll deliver them to Mr. Odinson later."

Ian placed the manilla folder on the filing cabinet next to the entrance to her cubicle. He lingered for a while after, hands shoved into his pockets.

"Do you ever want Mr. Odinson to ask you out?"

Jane's breath caught in her throat. Her hand on the mouse made spastic movements and she almost closed the document she'd been working on.

"I- er- what?"

Ian shuffled from one foot to the other. "I'm sorry if it's a personal question, but Darcy and I have been wondering… you know, since you're always watching him in his office."

"I am not!" Jane snapped, shocking poor Ian into silence. "I'm sorry, I just… I mean, maybe my eyes wander every now and then, but that doesn't mean I'm watching anyone."

"Really? Because Darcy insists that you are dying to get into Mr. Odinson's nine hundred dollar pants… and those are her words, not mine."

"Well, I can assure you, I'm not." Jane turned her swivel chair away, back to her computer, ducking her head below the screen so that Mr. Odinson's office was hidden from view. If she thought that would be a good cue for Ian to leave, she was wrong.

"So you don't have any feelings for him at all?"

Jane sighed.

"Ian, I think you should find more friends other than Darcy."

He shrugged. "It's just that I've seen him watching you, too."

On instinct, Jane looked up, Ian's words driving the caution from her in a single moment of insanity. To her eternal humiliation, there were a pair of bright green eyes that met hers for all of a second before Mr. Odinson looked away and picked up his desk phone, dialing a number like nothing had happened.

_'Nothing did happen,'_ she told herself as her heartbeat became erratic. _'It was just a coincidence. Has to be.'_

"I wonder why, if he likes you, he hasn't made a move." Ian appeared to be thinking out loud at this point. "Perhaps he's shy?"

"I say again, Ian, you need new friends. Darcy is a bad influence on you. Now why don't we both get back to work?"

It was another hour after Ian left before Jane had all her paperwork in order and was ready to deliver the reports. It never bothered her to enter Mr. Odinson's office, even though that meant being in close proximity to him and smelling the rather delicious cologne he always wore. All she had to do was hold her breath, drop the files on the desk, and her work was done. In a lot of ways, this job was easier than her old one.

She knocked once before opening the door. Mr. Odinson had just gotten off his call and was typing up an email, completely focused on the screen so that when he spoke, Jane nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Just leave that on my desk, Ms. Foster. Thank you for your hard work."

That was the most he'd said to her since she started here. Jane almost forgot to not breathe (that accent was even sexier up close) and tightened her fingers on the file before she dropped it everywhere.

"Of course, Mr. Odinson," she said. "I hope everything goes well at the meeting."

"Oh, it will just be a bunch of balding blowhards thinking they can talk over me because they are senior executives. Nothing at all interesting."

"Well, you certainly know how to deal with that type, sir," Jane said.

"That's true," Mr. Odinson said thoughtfully. "My brother always said I had a talent for it."

Jane nodded. Inside her head, the little voice of her better judgement was screaming at her.

_'What are you doing? Get out of here now before you say something stupid.'_

Jane was just about to listen to it and scram, had one foot out the door, when-

"Do you know what else I have a talent for, Ms. Foster?"

He was looking right at her, and there was something… strange in his eyes. She glanced around, but the area was a lot emptier now than Jane remembered it being a minute ago.

"No, sir. What?"

He grinned a full on evil grin.

"Reading lips," he said. "I'm quite proficient at it."

Jane's heart stopped. Her mouth fell open, but she had lost the ability to speak.

"I hope you'll inform Mr. Boothby that I am not now, nor have I ever been, shy," he said, lacing his fingers together. "I merely like to wait for the right moment, and I suppose now is as good a time as any to invite you to dinner tonight?"


	43. Slip of the Tongue

**A/N: This was an anonymous request.**

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><p>Objectively speaking, there was really nothing wrong with Thor's younger brother.<p>

Aside from the way he wouldn't shake her hand the first time they met, and continued to stick up his nose to her whenever she was around.

Or how he liked to hover over her shoulder while she took notes from her science textbook and correct her grammar.

Or that time at Tony and Pepper's Christmas party when he 'accidentally-on-purpose' bumped into her and sent her flying into the bowl of egg nog.

Other than that, Jane couldn't say she had anything against Loki Odinson at all.

She would just prefer it if he maintained a distance of at least twenty feet from her at all times.

Like right now. On her blind date. Which he was crashing because… because this is just what he did apparently.

He just lived to torment her. That was the only logical explanation for why he was at their table now, wearing a ill fitting busboy vest and the phoniest look of boredom Jane had ever seen in her life.

"So if you'd like to hear about our specials today," he droned on with eyes that absolutely shined with trouble, "or if you'd rather just skip to the after dinner coffee, it might be a better use of your money."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Jane hissed, and that was the perfect word to describe it, too. Her words were just dripping in pure venom, so much so that her date started glancing nervously at her.

'Er… Jane is this a friend of yours?"

_'Define 'friend,' _Jane thought. "It's nothing, Richard. He's just the baby brother of some guy I used to date. No big deal."

Loki frowned at the 'baby brother' comment, and the general way in which she dismissed his presence. Jane took some satisfaction in that. She would love to follow up and remind him that if he wanted to be in the service industry, he'd better get used to being invisible or a punching bag, but then she would just be getting involved.

For all that Jane and Loki were glaring at each other like the place would explode from the force of their mutual disdain, Richard at least seemed appeased.

"Okay, well, I wanted to get a cheeseburger with extra tomatoes, and-"

"Oh dear, I see someone isn't very concerned about the future state of their circulatory system." Loki tsked and gestured with a pen at Richard's chest. "Are you not worried that one day, you will be fifty years old and large as a whale, taking diabetes medication and checking your heart monitor twice a day? And how would poor Jane feel, should the two of you marry, if you left her a widow at such a young age all because you couldn't control yourself around greasy, fatty foods?"

Jane shot up in her seat, getting right in Loki's face where some small and unhelpful part of her brain could note that he smelled really good.

"I think you need to leave now, Loki," she said through her teeth. "I'm on a date and you're ruining it. Go get the real waiter now, please."

"I am the real waiter," Loki answered in kind. "I am for you, at least. Now I think you should sit back down."

"You didn't say the magic word," Jane said, because if he could be childish, then so could she goddammit.

She wasn't about to sit down anyway. Richard was staring open mouthed at them, and some kids at the next table over were pointing, and Loki was just the biggest asshole in the entire universe, and if Jane wanted to deal with that, she would have suggested they go to a bar instead.

After excusing herself, she went to the bathroom, where she remained just long enough so that Richard wouldn't think she'd bailed on him. Fixing her makeup and adjusting her blouse, Jane walked out of the bathroom with Loki still on the mind. His face clouded her thoughts.

"Can't stand him," she muttered. "What the hell is he even doing here? He's always getting in my face. Always bothering me. What the hell does he want from me? He thinks just because he's hot and he smells great, that he can do whatever he wants-"

"Is that so?"

Jane froze. She might have literally just turned to ice; she certainly felt cold enough. She could just about see Loki in the corner of her eye, wearing a smirk. He might as well just put a trademark on that look for how much he wore it.

"Can- can we pretend I didn't just say that?" she asked.

And then he grinned. "You didn't say the magic word."


	44. Play the Game

**A/N: This was a request by keydav and reriddle.**

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><p>Jane knew he was watching her; had been watching her since the party started.<p>

Anywhere she happened to wander, he was always there: lost in a crowd; having a drink; waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs like a modern day Clark Gable.

She couldn't really blame him for staring so long. Not to be vain, but she did look pretty damn good in this dress. It wasn't her usual style (dresses on the whole typically weren't), but it clung to what curves she had so well, making her look more filled out than she was. The dress was sleeveless, and fairly low cut. He wasn't the only man to cast hungry eyes on her that night.

He was just the only one that mattered.

As the party reached it climax, Jane saw him across the dance floor, making his way to her. Those eyes devoured her completely, and so thoroughly that she thought her clothes would vanish bit by bit until she was nude before him.

"Hello, my dear," he said, his voice sending delightful shivers through her. "I feel I would be remiss not to ask you for a dance."

Jane took his hand and let him lead. He was a great deal taller, but so very talented on his feet. He could have had her walking on air if he wanted.

"I saw you watching me," she said.

"Did you?" He smirked.

"Hard not to notice. You've been doing it all night."

"My apologies," he said, and he didn't mean it for a second. "I find that my eyes are always drawn to beauty."

"You know I'm engaged, right?"

She had the diamond ring on her finger. It sparkled as his finger ghosted over it's smooth edges.

"And your fiance has impeccable taste," he said.

Jane almost rolled her eyes.

"I don't know how he'd feel about me dancing with you."

He pulled her close, far too close for a proper waltz, but Jane couldn't say she cared about dancing anymore.

"How would he feel if I invited you to my room?"

"He'd probably kill you," Jane answered with a grin she could no longer contain.

"Then with my final moments, I must give you the time of your life."

He took her back to the hotel room, and for the next few hours kept his promise in the most wonderful way. When it was over, Jane rested in the circle of his arms, pressing kisses onto his chest as he played with her hair. For a time, Jane's heart pounded out of her chest and left her unable to verbalize the question on her mind.

"You're never going to get tired of that game, are you?"

Loki pulled her up for a long, searing kiss, and worn out as she was from their 'activities', Jane's toes could still curl and her heart could still pound. His fingers played with her engagement ring.

"My love, we will be long since married, and I will still be ready to play."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ****In case you don't get it, they are engaged, but they like to roleplay that they're strangers committing illicit acts together.**


	45. Only The Lonely

**A/N: This was an anonymous request.**

* * *

><p>On Asgard, they throw one hell of a party.<p>

They also have booze that would put Captain America under the table in four seconds.

(Jane knows. She's seen it.)

For a five foot nothing, one hundred something pound woman to take so much as a sip, one could only assume that she had some kind of deathwish.

Jane didn't have one of those (she hoped), but she had to admit, drinking down a pint of Asgardian ale was certainly helping her forget all about Thor and… and…

What was her name again?

Wow, this stuff was amazing. She couldn't even remember who she was mad at!

It was that sword fighting woman, right? The one who used to be blonde but then Loki fucked her shit up. Jane should thank him for that. They all said she'd been humiliated beyond measure. It sounded awesome!

But no, that was terrible of her. Sif (right, that was her name) had been nothing but kind and friendly to her from the start. She had treated Jane like an equal when so few of her brethren thought to do the same, and that was even before Thor saw fit to dump Jane on her ass and go shack up with the way hotter warrior woman.

But that wasn't fair either. Jane had agreed that a break up was best for both of them. Thor was nothing but gentle in ending things, and he'd made it clear that she would always be a valued friend for as long as he lived.

This alcohol was really fucking her head up. It made her hate people who didn't deserve it!

Worse than that, it was making her spilled her guts to people who weren't there. She had spent twenty minutes venting to a strangely still and silent guardsmen until some well meaning kid with a water pitcher asked her why she was talking to a pillar.

While the rest of Asgard celebrated their crown prince's engagement, Jane was carried out of the banquet hall on the back of someone who was probably a person (unless the pillars here were capable of walking and holding people). She was pretty sure the alcohol was still in effect. The ceiling was currently on the floor and vice versa, but the hands that held her were under her back and behind. That was making her incredibly confused, and Jane did not like being confused.

She was a scientist, dammit! Scientists did not get confused. They confused other people with big words and stuff.

Jane said as much to her helper as he brought her to an empty guest room. He didn't answer her, but then again, he never did. She had probably talked his ear off since he first got hold of her. She couldn't be sure, because the voice in her ear that sounded like her own felt like it was coming from twenty feet away.

"Boy this mead is something else," she said, followed by a hiccup. "Would you believe I've never had any before?"

He said nothing, and that really wasn't helping to disprove her sentient pillar theory.

"Do you ever talk?"

No answer.

"Do you have a name?"

Nothing.

"Aren't you one of Thor's guys? I think you are. Are you Hogun? I only ask because this stuff is really strong, and before I confused a potted plant with Odin and when I yelled at it, people stared at me."

She thought she heard a laugh. Maybe. Everything sounded far away, not just her.

"I'm just gonna guess that you're Hogun. Think you could not tell Thor about this? Or that I did it because I'm not completely over him even though I said I was? I'd appreciate that."

He brought her to the bed and laid her down gently. Mumbling words she couldn't hear, he got up to leave, and Jane's hand shot out.

"Please don't go," she said. It was the most coherent thing she'd been able to think since that well meaning but misguided server put a tankard in front of her while she was emotionally distressed enough to actually drink it. "Please stay… just for a little while… just until I sleep… I don't want to be alone."

She held him as tightly as her weak human hand could manage. If he wanted to pull away, he could have done it and taken her whole arm with him. But he stayed, and he came closer, and he sat at the edge of the bed and now Jane knew she heard a sigh from him.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I hate being alone. I never realized how much I hated it until now…"

She closed her eyes and let him move to take her hand in his. The man she thought was Hogun kept his promise, staying with her until blissful sleep claimed her mead addled brain.

She would never know that Loki stayed long after that, as the party died down and daylight broke. She wouldn't know that he covered the windows to let her sleep longer, or held her hand even as his own fell asleep. She would never know, and he would never know why he did it.

Except that maybe he hated being alone, too.


	46. Redecorating

**A/N: This was a request by godboysgirl.**

* * *

><p>"You know, Loki, I don't think I ask you for a lot."<p>

"You asked me not to take you in the shower just this morning. That was asking for quite a bit."

"I try to be fair and calm and not lose my head over little things."

"You don't try quite as hard on that last one, I think."

"But when I need you to do one thing for me, one _very simple thing_-"

"If this is about the competitor for your research grant that I sent away to the desert, I will not apologize."

"-you decide to- wait, _what?_ No, forget it. You decide to completely mess up my entire living space and turn it into- into the grand Budapest hotel or something!"

Jane waved her arms like a chicken with its head cut off, gesturing wildly at the towering ceiling, ornate decorations, and the fifteen foot Christmas tree he had spent at least an hour tailoring to her liking, thank you very much. All of it was made from what used to be her cramped London apartment. If anything, she should be thanking him for all the extra space she now had.

"_Thanking_ you?" she shouted when he told her so. "Loki, my colleagues are going to be here in ten minutes, and I can't let them see the place like this!"

"And what may I ask is wrong with my redecorating?"

"For starters, the room is now three stories bigger than it's supposed to be. You really think no one will notice that?"

"Jane, please. You know perfectly well that my magic only makes it bigger on the inside. You still live in the same old squalor as far as the outside knows;."

"This is ridiculous." Jane walked away from him, hand on her head. "There is just no talking to you. I'd have better luck with a brick wall."

"Don't say that, my dear. I think we both know I am far superior to any wall."

"Would you quit being a smartass and just fix this place? By which I mean turn it back to normal. Before they get here. Please?"

Loki shook his head. His dearest Jane, much as he loved her, simply never appreciated his way of helping her. With a wave of his hand, the grand hall disappeared, and they were once more among secondhand furniture and tiny kitchenettes. Loki stretched out on the couch he had claimed for his own, and Jane stared down at him, not quite relieved.

"I meant get rid of all of it."

She put a hand down on the expensive cushions, sitting among her old belongings like a true diamond in the rough.

"But it's so very comfortable." Loki had Jane by the wrist and in his lap before she could blink. "Allow me to show you."

He did, and Jane's colleagues had to wait over twenty minutes for her at the door.


	47. My Choice of Wardrobe

**A/N: This was an anon request.**

* * *

><p>"I'm afraid this is unacceptable."<p>

Loki cast a discerning eye on Jane's… admittedly very uniform wardrobe. His long fingers thumbed through ten plaid shirts in varying colors and two neatly folded stacks of jeans. Beside it were some old t-shirts from her college days that she liked to break out when she felt like shaking it up a bit.

She never saw any shame in it. Not making it into the fashion magazines wouldn't mean much to a potential Nobel Prize winner.

Count on Loki, in his magically tailored suit that made Dolce and Gabbana look like a homeless person's scraps, to be the one to call her on it.

And actually make her care! At least a little bit.

"Thor never complained about my clothes," Jane said, because even if she was maybe kind of agreeing with him, it didn't mean she had to tell him.

"That's because Thor is an idiot," Loki said dismissively. "And if we are to attend this gathering, you are going to need to wear something far better than these rags."

"Rags?" Jane cried. "I'll have you know I keep everything in here clean and in good condition. Take a look if you don't believe me. You won't find a single mothball!"

"That would be wonderful if I cared."

Loki slid her closet door shut (it mysteriously lacked the bump on the railing that always gave Jane trouble), and stepped away as if the whole thing was covered in slime.

"I do have a dress, you know," Jane said.

"If you can call that cheaply made potato sack a dress."

"Hey, asshole, I spent a lot of money on that dress."

"Then you were robbed. I shall have to locate whatever establishment you purchased it from and give the proprietor a stern lesson in what happens when one cheats my consort. Until then, let's find you something proper to wear."

He leaned back to examine her, eyes running up and down her body far more times than what had to be necessary. As was often the case since she and Loki met, Jane had a powerful urge to roll her eyes.

_'Just remember, Jane, you could have had a true to life Prince Charming, and instead, you went for the angry metrosexual.'_

Loki hummed and muttered to himself, taking his time before, without even a shred of warning, snapping his fingers. Jane sucked in a breath as her body constricted, bathed in glowing green light for a split second. It was snuffed out like a flame, and in the side mirror, Jane caught a glimpse of herself in a sleeveless, dark green dress with gold trim (because of course the snobby bastard would put her in his colors) that hugged her body in all the right ways and gave her whole figure a real boost that she hadn't thought possible.

"That's much better," Loki said in a low, husky voice. "You will turn heads everywhere we go."

Jane turned to the mirror, getting a better look at the dress and the way it plunged down her neckline and pushed up her breasts. If her mother ever saw her in something like this, she would have fainted.

"It… does look nice," Jane conceded, playing with the soft, smoothing fabric that felt wonderful to touch.

"Nice is a gross understatement." Loki moved closer to her, backing her into the wall next to the bed. "I think I might have done a bit too well."

"What do you mean by that?" Jane asked coyly.

His arms came up around her, caging her in. His lips moved over hers and down the exposed column of her neck.

"Only that we should be…_ fashionably late_."


	48. Always Watching

**A/N: This was a request by staythatswhatimeanttosay.**

* * *

><p>The first time it happened, it was two weeks after the convergence.<p>

Jane went to the bathroom to brush her teeth after a long night of looking over data and trying to ignore Darcy and Ian making noise in the next room.

Out the corner of her eye, a formless black shape hovered by the door.

She blinked.

It vanished.

She paused for a moment, then decided it had been a trick of the light.

She went to bed with piece of mind.

* * *

><p>The second time it happened, she was sitting down for a quick breakfast the next morning.<p>

Her mouth was full of cereal and sliced banana, and as she looked up from her laptop screen, the shape was back. It sat long and lean by the toaster oven, reflected in the surface of the window.

Jane turned her head.,

Nothing.

She turned back to the window.

Nothing.

She took the unused half of the banana and sniffed it, checking for signs of rot.

She threw it away.

She went to work that day without a problem, but once or twice, she looked over her shoulder.

* * *

><p>The third time, she was in public.<p>

It only stood to reason that this would be the worst of all.

After an hour of tedious mingling with the Scandinavian elite, most of whom barely spoke English, Jane had her translator give her apologies as she excused herself to the bathroom.

She washed her face and combed her hair. She re-applied make-up cleaned away by her excessive face washing. She spent upwards of twenty minutes shifting between two feet and hoping that if she waited long enough, the party would end and she could go back to her room in blissful silence.

Why had she agreed to come here?

Something about getting in with rich people for more funding?

If she had known it would be like this, she would have just stayed in New Mexico with her trailer and a year's supply of pop tarts.

After almost an hour, she knew she couldn't hide anymore. She went to check her hair in the mirror one more time.

The shape was there.

It stood at her back, filling her vision.

And it wasn't just a shape anymore.

The black silhouette now had a clear form, with a head and appendages. It didn't hover, rather it stood solid on two feet. It looked down at her with eyes that she could just make out within the growing darkness. A whisper caressed her ear.

_'Hello, Jane.'_

She screamed.

She ran.

She pushed passed waiters and partygoers, never stopping until she was out of the banquet hall and into a cab. She paid the driver everything she had in her purse to take her back to her hotel.

The hum of the engine calmed her somewhat. She could breathe and think again. She wondered if she'd overreacted, had simply imagined what she saw.

Deep down, she knew she hadn't.

Every street corner they passed, the shape was there.

Watching her.

* * *

><p>Darcy was surprised when Jane came home the following day.<p>

"I thought you'd be gone for another week," she said as Jane pushed passed her.

"Something came up," Jane said. "I need to be alone for a while. Don't come into my room."

She shut the door in Darcy's face and threw her travel bag into the corner. She climbed into bed and shoved her head between her pillows.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

In the dark, she could no longer see it, there in the corner of her eye.

It had been there since the party last night.

Always there.

Always watching.

It was still there now.

Even if she couldn't see it, she could feel it.

"Go away," Jane said, eyes growing heavy with tears. "Please… leave me alone. Leave me alone."

Something touched her arm.

A hand.

Jane's heart burst out of her chest.

Her body screamed at her to run, but she couldn't move a muscle.

He kept her frozen with a single touch.

"Leave me alone," she sobbed. "You're not real."

A chuckle, low and deep and filled with ice.

"But I am real, Jane," he said, his voice clear and unmistakable. "I am real… and now, you are mine."

* * *

><p>A knock on the door.<p>

"Hey, Jane? I'm going to get some food. You want anything?"

Darcy knocked again, and again, there was no answer.

"You're not sleeping, are you?"

She tried the knob, and it turned with ease.

That was weird. Didn't Jane always lock it when she wanted to be alone?

"Jane?"

Darcy opened the door and stepped inside. She looked around at an empty room.


	49. Jane's Bad Day

**A/N: This was a request by ozhawk.**

* * *

><p>That morning, Jane woke up to a cloudless sky at ten thirty on the dot, which would have been fine if she hadn't set her alarm to go off at eight fifteen.<p>

Rolling around with a frizzy mess of bed hair, Jane grabbed her phone from the night stand. Clicking the buttons produced nothing but a blank screen.

"How the hell did I forget to charge this thing?' Jane threw it aside with a groan. "Now I only have twenty minutes to get ready for the meeting.'

Jane jumped out of bed, not thinking about the sheets still tangled around her ankles. Her foot snagged, and Jane plunged forward with a yelp. Now with an aching chin, Jane forced herself up… only to bang her toe on the side of the bed after taking one step.

So now, she'd overslept, her chin hurt, and her toe hurt.

She hobbled into the bathroom. With no time to shower, she grabbed the bottle of dry shampoo from the medicine cabinet. She tried not to look at her knotted hair as she squeezed the nozzle… and nothing came out.

She'd overslept, her chin hurt, her toe hurt, and she was out of shampoo.

After fifteen minutes of fruitlessly brushing out the knots, Jane's hair was in a reasonably acceptable state. She ran back to her room to grab her clothes, but the outfit she set out the night before was no longer sitting on the desk chair. Instead, it was in the corner, clearly blown by a gust of wind from the window she'd left open. Her half finished can of soda from last night sat in the middle of a big brown stain on her white blouse.

She'd overslept, her chin hurt, her toe hurt, she was out of shampoo, and her one good dress shirt was ruined.

And she was late.

Really, one couldn't blame her for crying over it.

That was how Loki found her, an unknowable amount of time later, on the floor with frustrated sobs wracking through her. He had entered without knocking, as was his way. Jane didn't even know he was there until she felt his breath near her ear.

"You know, I've heard that some women can make crying look beautiful." He lifted her chin to meet her puffy red eyes. "I wonder if I shall ever meet such a woman."

Jane jerked away. Normally, she would return his jibe with a shot of her own, but now she couldn't have been less in the mood.

"Weren't you supposed to be somewhere today?"

He spoke without condescension, but Jane glared at him anyway.

"I would love to be at my meeting," she snapped, drying her tears. "If my phone hadn't died and I hadn't overslept, and I had something to wear, and if today hadn't turned out be be one big Murphy's Law day, that's _exactly_ where I would be!"

Jane's head fell back between her legs. She couldn't cry anymore, but she didn't want to argue with Loki either. Even if most of their fights these days were no more than playful jabbing followed by sex. Loki seemed to sense it, as he said not a word but stayed close at her side.

His presence… wasn't exactly comforting, but only in the sense that he didn't hug her or whisper words of encouragement in her ear. That wasn't Loki's way. If he was going to help, he'd find a more practical way to do it.

Which was why, mere minutes after Jane calmed down and went to her closet, searching for a new shirt while trying to come up with a good excuse for her tardiness, her charging cell phone rang.

Erik was on the other end, sounding quite harried.

"Jane, are you on your way to the meeting?"

There was some kind of shouting going on in the background that Jane couldn't make out.

"Yes, I'm so sorry that I'm late, Erik. A lot of things happened at once, and I was having some trouble this morning. Will you let everyone know-"

"Well, it's probably for the best," Erik said The background noise was getting louder. "We're having some issues with the plumbing down here. It's the craziest thing. It looks like every single pipe in the building burst at the same time!"

"…what?"

"The meeting has been postponed. Hopefully, they'll have everything fixed soon, but there's no way we can start until then. I am literally knee deep in water right now."

They spoke for a while longer, but Erik needed to get out and get dry, so Jane thanked him for letting her know and ended the call. Her gaze fell on Loki, sitting at the foot of her bed with a triumphant smirk.

"I suppose something _has_ gone right for you," he said. "You're welcome, by the way."


	50. Taking the Plunge

**A/N: This was an anonymous request.**

* * *

><p>It was the most beautiful sight Jane had ever seen. At least, outside of the nighttime sky, it was.<p>

The palace's winding halls and majestic throne room were decorated to the nines in flowers and specially made embroideries, all in the signature colors of the bride and groom. The windows were open, and on the backdrop of the endless starry sky, the golden floors and walls seemed to shine brighter. Jane could see herself in them, so clear they were.

She took a moment to adjust her hair and the top of her dress before it was time to go in. The Asgardian style dress seemed to suit her fine, but she couldn't help thinking she stuck out like a sore thumb; just a regular human among the beautiful Aesir.

Leave it to Loki to drive that little snatch of insecurity right out of her.

"These so-called _beauties_ are practically clones of each other," he said with a snort. "If anything, they should worry that _you_ will outshine_them_."

It was those rare moments when Loki wasn't a total ass (or at least channeled his total assness towards something good) that reminded Jane of why she was with him, and why she had agreed to be his wife at all.

This was a day the whole of Asgard had waited centuries for. The day their prince wed a woman truly right for him in every way. It was a day Jane was happy to share with them, if only because they were the physical embodiment of her every dream realized.

The music started, and at Sif's signal, Jane began her walk.

All the gathered Aesir looked upon her with joy and admiration. The days in which she was a lesser being to them were long over. Through sheer intelligence and impressive innovation (she and Loki took _her_ bifrost to get here today), she had more than proven herself to Asgard. Even Odin had had to take back that goat comment of his. Jane locked eyes with him for just a moment. His face bore no joy, but he nodded to her in a show of respect. Jane nodded back. It would have to be good enough.

She kept her eyes on Loki from there. He was beautiful in his dark green armor, his hair clean and swept back behind his ears. Though Thor was impressive beside his brother, Jane only had eyes for one. At the altar, she stood before him, flowers in hand and with nothing else on her mind but how thrilled she was to be spending her life with him.

"It's incredible in here," she whispered. "You think we missed out?"

"Not at all," Loki said. "Believe me, these events are the greatest headache to plan. Eloping was the right idea."

Jane smiled at her husband, then looked out at the doors as Sif made her entrance, and walked to the altar where a beaming Thor awaited her.


	51. Cue the Montage

**A/N: ****Based on a request from auraize. I'm sorry I didn't get this out by Valentine's Day, but I had some real life issues that kind of killed my muse for a while. I hope you enjoy even if it did come out over a month late.****  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"How about this one?"<p>

Jane held up a black jacket for Loki's inspection. It was made from quality material (as far as Jane knew) and came with the added benefit of been right within their price range. It was the last one on the rack that Loki had not rejected for one reason or another. Jane had taken to counting in her head the seconds between her making a suggestion and Loki shooting it down. If four seconds passed without a word, it meant he was considering it.

Five seconds went by.

"It is… acceptable," Loki said. He ran a finger down the lapel, seeming to like what he was seeing. "I don't know if it really suits me..."

"It'll suit you just fine. It's perfect!" Jane held it up to Loki's neck, spreading it out over his shoulders and sides. "It's in your size, reasonably priced, will go with the rest of your outfit. Just go try it on so we can be sure."

She marched him towards the changing room. She was one of the lucky few Loki would ever allow to touch him this way. Anyone else who tried would have gotten death glared into submission and possibly traumatized for life. Jane had seen the former happen multiple times and heard many rumors of the latter whenever Loki's unfortunate victims took a day or two off from classes shortly after. That wasn't to say that Jane believed it (being in college was bound to give overworked students the kind of stress that required a few day's recuperation), but she had known Loki Odinson and his brother, Thor, since her freshman year at Culver, and she had learned much in that time.

The brothers were total opposites. Night and day, dark and light. Thor was handsome, popular, and confident. Loki was quiet, brooding, and hid a boatload of insecurities behind that cold, closed off personality. The only reason Jane hadn't immediately shunned him like everyone else was because their physics professor had the bright idea of pairing everyone off for end of term projects, and decided that there was no one better for 'genius' Jane to bounce ideas off of than the equally 'genius' Loki.

And he was right. They had scored higher than anyone else in their professor's twenty one years of teaching. Jane came out of it with a glowing recommendation letter already in the works for grad school, and a new friend she never could have expected. Not that Loki would ever openly admit that they were friends. That was reserved for smaller gestures, like carrying heavy books for her or not biting her head off when she joined him for lunch at the cafe. Perhaps his greatest gesture of goodwill had been today, when he allowed himself to be dragged to the shopping mall on a perfectly good Saturday afternoon to buy something nice for the big Valentine's Day party.

"I still don't understand why you are so concerned about this," Loki said. "I don't even have a date."

"Neither do a lot of other girls," Jane said. She led him past the woman manning the changing rooms, over to a free room on the far right hand side. "With the right look, you're bound to attract one of them. Maybe even more."

"What about you?" Loki smirked.

Jane blushed. That was… surprisingly bold of him.

"I don't think Don would like that," she said.

Loki grimaced at the mention of her date slash would-be boyfriend. She and Don had been seeing each other for over a month and had yet to make anything official, but Jane had a feeling it was going to happen soon. Though Don was no Thor, he was one of the most popular guys on campus. One of the smartest, too. He'd already been accepted into one of the country's top medical schools and was well on his way to a life of great success. Not a day went by without someone reminding Jane of how lucky she was to have him.

And she did feel lucky, even though Don never made her heart race the way she used to dream about as a child. He respected her and cared for her, and in the real world, what else could she ever expect?

"I'll still want to ask you for a dance to thank you for helping me," Loki said from inside the changing room.

"You can thank me by getting more girls than your brother," she answered.

"Then I'm afraid you will have to settle for the dance.."

Jane stepped out to give him some privacy. She wandered back into the open, glancing at a display of colorful pyjama tops. While she was there, maybe she'd look for a new one..

"Hey, Jane!"

Darcy Lewis waved from the lingerie section. She dropped the lacey bra she'd been examining and skipped over to pull Jane into a hug.

"Hi, Darcy. I thought you were done shopping for the dance."

"Oh I am, but there is still after the dance to consider," Darcy grinned. "What about you? Please tell me you're taking my advice about getting better shoes."

Jane rolled her eyes. "Darcy, for the last time, I don't want any extra height. I am perfectly fine wearing my old pumps, and stilettos make me feel like my ankles are going to snap."

Darcy gave a world weary sigh as she leaned heavily against Jane.

"I'm actually here helping Loki shop."

Darcy furrowed her brow. "Loki? You mean that creepy weirdo in all your science classes?"

Jane felt a stab of annoyance at Darcy's insensitive language, but brushed it off, as she had many times before, as simply Darcy's way of things.

"He's a good friend, so I wanted to help him out," she said.

"Does he even have a date?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Yeah, that doesn't surprise me."

Jane shot her a glare. She had learned well from Loki how to give a really effective one, and Darcy flinched in a way that was oddly satisfactory.

"I'll have you know I think Loki is very appealing in his own way, and aren't you the one who always say that the right outfit will make anyone look good?"

"Yeah, but I was talking about ordinary people, not Loki." Darcy crossed her arms over her chest. "I hate to break it to you Jane, but I don't think it matters what you put him in. He's going to look like a… like a…"

Darcy's arms fell limp, her voice trailing off as she seemed to lose control of her lower jaw. It hung open and her shoulders slumped. Her eyes glazed over with a hypnotized look that baffled Jane more than anything else.

"...total hunkmuffin…" Darcy mumbled.

A tall presence made itself known to Jane, who turned thoughtlessly around to face Loki.

He had elected not to limit himself to the jacket. The entire ensemble they had painstakingly picked out over several hours clung to his body like a glove. The white shirt was almost transparent, and the jacket broadened his shoulders, making him look even taller if possible. From having touched him once or twice today, Jane suspected that he was not quite as scrawny as he appeared in baggy clothes. Seeing him now in something that actually fit him properly, she could confirm that there was nothing scrawny about him at all. His back was straight as he adjusted the jacket, making sure everything was perfectly aligned. Not that Jane thought anyone would have noticed, not when there was so much else to drink in.

"I assume that you like it?" Loki asked.

Jane shook her head, clearing herself of the fog. She elbowed Darcy, forcing her back to reality as well. The other girl clamored to collect herself as Jane moved to block Loki's view of her.

"You look great," she stammered. "I told you you would."

Loki looked down at himself and hummed. "We shall see. Forgive me if I am forced to suspect you of exaggerating to spare my feelings. That has happened to me one too many times in the past."

_'Loki, there isn't a way in the universe to exaggerate this,'_ said a delirious voice in her head as her heart beat faster.

He went back inside to change into his street clothes. The woman behind the desk did a double take and craned her neck all the way around to watch him go. She would put the girl from The Exorcist to shame. That boy would have nothing to feel insecure about when the dance rolled around, that was for sure.

"Jane," Darcy whined, reminding Jane that she was still there. "Are you going to tap that?"

"I hadn't considered it," Jane said, swallowing. Her heart was racing. "I might be now."

"You'd better," Darcy said. "Because if you don't, and he starts going around looking like that, then let me tell you, Jane, somebody else will."


	52. Movie Kiss

**A/N: Based on a request from dristi5683.**

* * *

><p>"Is this seat taken?"<p>

As soon as Jane heard the voice, she looked at the speaker with hope in her eyes. Even though the voice was different than she expected- softer with an edge as if every word spoken was secretly an insult- the hope in her chest refused to die no matter how much time she spent alone in the theater. Surely he had arrived at last, in the middle of the film's second act, late for whatever flimsy reason, but here all the same. Just like he said he would be.

The blue eyes she sought from the person sitting next to her shined unmistakably green, and Jane's heart sunk.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Loki drew back, hand on his chest as if she'd stabbed him.

"No need to spew such vitriol on me," he said. "I'll have you know, I have been looking forward to seeing the new Nicholas Spacks film."

"It's Nicholas _Sparks_, and that doesn't explain why you're sitting next to me!" Jane had to lower her voice as the person two rows below shsushed her. "I'm here on a date you know."

"You look quite alone to me," said Loki.

Jane glanced at the empty seat on her other side. Her coat and her popcorn rested on it, keeping anyone else from taking it until Thor arrived.

"As it happens, my brother wished for me to convey his deepest regrets," Loki said, and he didn't sound very regretful at all, "but there is business to attend to at the office, and he will not be able to make it today."

"Are you kidding me?" Jane almost screamed, only to be shushed one more time by the person two rows down. "I don't believe this. I called him just this morning, and he said he'd be here. He knows that this was his last chance to fix things between us."

"The problem with Thor, as I think you are finally beginning to realize, is that he has an unfortunate habit of putting work before personal obligations." Loki eased back in his chair, uncaring of whether or not anyone was behind him whose legs might get crushed. "You would be wise to end things with him for good."

"Yeah, you'd just love that, wouldn't you?" Jane seethed, but she couldn't deny that he was right.

She'd been with Thor for two and a half years, and things had been perfect for almost all of that time. He had been sweet, attentive, loving, and kind. He made her feel special. Even when his father thought she wasn't good enough, or some other woman tried to get his attention, he had only had eyes for her. Until these past few months, when he finally took over as head of his father's company, Jane had truly believed that Thor Odinson was The One.

Look where that had gotten her.

She was sitting in a theater, watching the stupidest movie in the world, with only Thor's annoying younger brother to keep her company.

Why would he even come here to tell her this and not just call like a normal person?

"I thought about that," Loki said when asked, "but then I thought, why not give the message in person? I assumed you would prefer it."

"Why would you even think that?"

He didn't answer. He seemed oddly… pensive. She thought he might want to say more, explain himself better, but nothing came forth. Loki was always very closed off about his emotions. His mother used to express to Jane her fears that he would remain isolated forever, never marrying or having a friend to his name. If Jane didn't know any better, she'd think Frigga had been implying that she herself should befriend him. As if Loki would ever want that.

"You are better off without him," he said. "Thor is a good man, but he would only have hurt you in the end."

_'He's hurt me now,' _Jane thought.

"And I have reason to believe that he is worthless in the ways of love and seduction anyway."

Jane turned to Loki, barely containing a laugh.

"Oh you do, do you?"

"I only know from what I have heard, but I can guarantee you one thing for sure. I am a far better kisser than he."

"And how can you confirm that?"

The next thing Jane knew, she was in Loki's arms. He was far stronger than he looked, and pressed up against him like this, Jane knew exactly why. He was hiding _a lot_ under those nine hundred dollar suits. She had no hope of fighting him off on her own, and as his lips slid over hers she immediately lost the desire to. She found herself moaning shamelessly as she melted into the kiss. Her eyes fell shut as she moved against him. He pulled away, taking in her glazed over eyes and red swollen lips with a look of triumph.

"Just like that."


	53. Use Your Teeth

**A/N: This was an anonymous request.**

* * *

><p>She shouldn't have come here.<p>

It was a bad idea from the start, but somehow, she'd let her friends convince her that all the flirting she'd endured from Loki Odinson was completely genuine, and she should give him a chance and go out with him.

It wasn't that Loki was unattractive (half the problem was that he was _very _attractive and he knew it) or unintelligent. He was in every way Jane's intellectual equal. Everything she had poured years of her life into studying, he could pick up with one glance at a book. Their conversations went on well into the morning hours, and if Darcy was to be believed, every argument they ever had looked like it would end in them ripping each other's clothes off.

So naturally, it only made sense that she was here right now, sitting at the restaurant bar waiting to be seated, with Loki ordering drinks for them.

"Nothing too alcoholic," she told him, fiddling with her napkin. "I'm not letting things go that far."

"Pity," Loki said in that irritatingly smooth, sexy voice of his. "Of course, you are thinking a bit far ahead, Jane. We haven't even had dinner yet."

If he kept this up, they never would. Either because Jane would get up and leave or because…

Jane shook her head, hoping to dislodge the very dirty thoughts forcing their way into her mind. This was why she never should have agreed to go on a date with him. She should have chosen that guy she met at the Stop n Shop, Richard. At least he was normal.

"You look lovely tonight," he said a while later, after they'd been seated. His eyes roamed shamelessly over her. "That dress suits you well."

He couldn't be more obvious if he tried. Jane would've laughed out loud if his bedroom eyes and that damn fitted suit he wore didn't giving her the exact same kind of thoughts.

_'Stop undressing me with your eyes,'_ she almost wanted to say, _'and start using your teeth.'_

They made idle conversation as dinner was brought out to them. Jane had ordered a very small dish to make up for the big breakfast she'd had that morning. They spoke less as they ate, but without fail, Jane always felt his eyes when they were on her. They were rarely anywhere else.

"Are you certain you don't want things to go far tonight?" he asked as the waiter brought them coffee and the check.

Jane flushed red. "Since when were you so forward?"

"I may have had a bit more to drink than I realized," Loki said, easing back in his chair. The table hid his spread apart legs, but Jane knew he was doing it. "Or perhaps it's because I am always afflicted with such thoughts and desires when I'm in your presence."

"Well, aren't you the charmer?" Jane leaned forward on her elbows.

"I can do so much more in a private setting."

Jane's face grew hot. She bit back all of her inhibitions and anything else that might talk her out of the insane thing she was about to do.

"Care to demonstrate?"

He grinned.

They were lucky Jane's apartment was only half a block away.


End file.
